Harry Potter and the Phantom Calling
by Vexel
Summary: Fourth year was fast approaching for Harry at Hogwarts, and with the reintroduction of the infamous Triwizard Tournament, he was going to learn that not all good things come in threes. In fact, some good things only come in halves.
1. Mad-Eye Moody

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter 13:** _ **Mad-Eye Moody**_

"Are they _mad?_ " Hermione hissed from her seat next to Harry at the Gryffindor table, "Reintroducing the Triwizard Tournament at a time like this? I checked _Hogwarts: A History_ after what Professor Dumbledore told us _,_ and it said that almost everyone that's entered had suffered from at least some sort of injury, and I'm not going to even mention how many people have been _killed_."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Hermione; she hadn't stopped nagging him and Ron since she had met them in the Common Room that morning, but Hermione wasn't the only one talking about the Triwizard Tournament. All around him, Harry could hear the harried and excited whispers of his classmates. The school had done nothing but talk since Dumbledore's announcement at the feast the night before.

"Who cares about how many people died, Hermione? Obviously they just weren't up to the cut," Ron said, snagging a platter of bacon triumphantly, "Just imagine winning that thing, eh? Eternal glory and a thousand galleons is definitely enough for me to stick my neck out. Right, Harry?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Besides, Hermione, you heard Dumbledore, they've raised the defences to make sure nobody gets hurt this time 'round."

Hermione sent them both a scathing look, "It's good to know both of you hold your lives at such a high value to something like 'eternal glory'," she said clipped, "And just because they've made extra precautions doesn't mean the tournament isn't any less dangerous. A single slip-up in a challenge and the Hogwarts Express could be taking home one less student at the end of the year."

"Aw, stop being so negative, 'Mione. I bet you're just mad you can't enter to show off all your fancy wand-work."

Harry hurriedly intervened when Hermione opened her mouth to retort, "What do you think Dumbledore meant when he said that Hogwarts was going to be 'enjoying even richer company this year'? I mean, we already know that Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs are competing. Who else could there be?"

"Dunno. Maybe there's a secret judge or something." Ron said.

"Honestly, don't you two ever read?" Hermione huffed, "The Daily Prophet can be quite informative when it isn't publishing those horrible gossip spreads Rita Skeeter writes," At both Harry and Ron's blank expressions, the Gryffindor girl sighed, "If either of you had been paying attention, you would both know that Dumbledore has been traveling back and forth from America throughout the summer to form an alliance with one of their schools."

Harry snapped to attention, pulling himself from his porridge, "Wait, _one_ of their schools? There's more?"

"Course, mate, America's huge. There's no way they'd be able to fit so many untrained wizards in one place without getting noticed," Ron said distractedly, eyeing off a stack of French toast sitting by Neville further down the table.

"Where? The only one I know of is Salem. I saw them at the Quidditch Cup."

"That's the Salem Witches' Institute. They're a barmy lot, those ones. Comes with the history I guess," Ron shrugged, "They've also got one down south, New Orleans, or something. Teach some weird form of voodoo magic. Dad told me there's another one, too – a place called 'Ill-noise'?" he shook his head, "I forget."

"Illinois," Hermione corrected, adding, "There's also one in Canada, although they're more likely to have closer roots to Beauxbatons than Hogwarts."

"Who do you think it is then?"

"As long as it's not Salem, I don't really care," Ron said, leaning over Parvati's breakfast to grab a slice of Neville's toast, ignoring the way the girl glared at him.

ΔOl

 _Hello! As you can see, this is a new Harry Potter/Danny Phantom crossover. As this is primarily based around the Harry Potter universe, I have decidedly made some changes to the Phantom one for it to smoothly match. So for all the Phantom purists out there, I say: just roll with it._

 _This story will be strongly following the happenings of the book,_ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _, and is written as if the Danny Phantom series has been neatly integrated into the book, and will thus appear in excerpts of 2000 words or less. Man of the chapters have direct texts taken from the book, and while I tried to change as much as I possibly could - I found it rather difficult to write out a scene on how a character would react when Rowling had already written out how that character would act, so I apologise in advance and claim no rights over those sections._

 _As most of this story has already been written out, chapters will be posted twice a week, Thursdays and Sundays (Australian time). So have fun! Relax! And please, as always, leave a review. I love to hear your thoughts._


	2. Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Fifteen:** _ **Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs**_

Walking into the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione after their Care of Magical Creatures lesson, Harry was surprised to find it teeming with people. Students were babbling excitedly to one another, craning their necks to look at a large sign placed at the top of the marble stairs.

Ron, being the tallest, pressed himself up onto the tips of his toes and read the sign aloud for Harry and Hermione.

 _TETRAWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

 _The delegations from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Casper will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday 30_ _th_ _of October. Lessons will end half an hour early—_

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape's not gonna have time to poison us all!"

"And we won't have time to go down and take care of Hagrid's blasted Blast-Ended Skrewts either!" Ron cheered.

 _Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

"That's only a week away," Hermione frowned, "How do they expect us to get any work done if they keep interrupting us with such frivolous things?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Come on, Hermione. Who in their right mind would care more about school than the tournament? I bet you even the teachers don't."

Hermione turned her nose up at him, but kept quiet.

Harry stared at the notice, " _Tetrawizard_? I thought they said it was the Triwizard?" Harry asked.

"And who are the 'Caspers'?" Ron asked.

"I've never heard of them," Hermione admitted as Harry shrugged.

"Well I'm just glad it's not Salem, at least. Bunch of nutters they are."

"Oh, really, Ron. Must you be so cruel?" Hermione crossed her arms with a huff.

Harry was going to suggest leaving when Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff shoved his way through the crowd, almost colliding with them, "Oh, sorry, guys. Didn't see you there. Isn't it great? Less than a week," a dreamy look crept over Ernie's face before he snapped to attention, "I'm going to see if Cedric's heard the news! See ya!" he grinned zealously before hurrying out of the Great Hall.

"Cedric?" Ron asked.

"Diggory," Harry offered, "He must be entering the Tournament."

"That idiot, Hogwarts' champion?" Ron snorted as they followed after Ernie, pushing their way out of the accumulating crowd and towards the entrance hall staircase, "The bloke'd probably be too distracted by his own reflection to be able to cast proper a spell."

"He's not an idiot," Hermione stated crossly, "You just don't like him since Gryffindor lost to him last year in Quidditch. Besides, I've heard he's quite an excellent student, who is more than capable of casting the highest level spells – _and_ he's a prefect."

Ron scowled, "Oh, come off it, Hermione, you just like him because he's _handsome_."

Hermione's lips were becoming thinner and thinner, reminding Harry of his Aunt Petunia whenever she saw something she disliked (which was usually him), "Excuse me," Hermione said tartly, "I refuse to like people simply because of their exterior appearance."

Ron was suddenly overcome with a rather vicious coughing fit which sounded suspiciously like, _"Lockhart!"_

Hermione's eyes narrowed to match her lips before she hoisted her bag up higher on her shoulder, "If either of you need me I'll be in the library, finding out more about this Casper school," she sniped, storming up the stairs without a backwards glance.

ΔOl

No Danny yet. He won't be around for another few chapters at least. But we've been introduced to the Tetrawizard Tournament (for those that don't know, 'Tetra' is the Greek numerical prefix for four, like how 'Tri' represents three). I thought with the introduction of a new school it would be fitting to change the name to suit. Next chapter will be out on Thursday (Australian time - Wednesday everywhere else).


	3. The Goblet of Fire I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Sixteen:** _ **The Goblet of Fire I**_

"Harry – _it's_ _Krum_!" Ron's eyes were wide as they followed the slightly duck-footed figure into Hogwarts, "I can't believe it! Krum! _The_ Viktor Krum!"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ron! He's just a Quidditch player!" Hermione huffed, her icy breath obscuring her face.

Ron stared at her agape, " _Just a Quidditch player_?" he sputtered, "Harry, did you hear what she just said?"

Harry simply shrugged, he didn't really have an opinion on the older boy.

Ron turned his full attention to Hermione when Krum's head had disappeared through the Hogwarts doors with Karkaroff and his classmates (the Beauxbatons students had long since gone inside) leaving only the Hogwarts residents standing in the cold, "You just don't get it, do you, Hermione? Krum isn't 'just a Quidditch player', he's one of the best seekers in the world. I'd think something like that'd warrant a bit more respect."

Hermione sniggered at Ron's dazed expression as his focus was once again dragged back to the Entrance doors, "I think you've confused the meaning of respect with obsession, Ron. Besides, I'm more curious to see the students of the Casper Magical Seminary."

"The Casper what?" Harry grumbled, stomping his feet in an attempt to keep out the cold. The tips of his ears were becoming numb.

"The Casper Magical Seminary," Hermione spoke slowly, "They're one of the more recently developed schools in America – it's less than half a century old. That's the reason why nobody – particularly me – knew about them. It's actually the school Ron was talking about in Illinois."

Ron didn't seem to be listening, "Wonder if I could get his autograph…" he muttered.

"Casper Magical Seminary is rather fascinating actually," Hermione continued, "The Ministry in America is actually split up into subsections with their own regulations and laws as so to allow more control over the country, considering how large it is, while still having an overruling Ministry. The Ministry subsector that contains Illinois actually has a law that allows muggles to know about the existence of magic to a certain extent."

Ron snapped out of his dream-like state, "Why would the Ministry let _muggles_ know about magic?"

"Why, to explain all the ghosts, of course," Hermione linked her gloved fingers together behind her back smugly.

"Ghosts? But I thought only witches and wizards could see ghosts?" Harry said confused.

"They're not really ghosts," Harry couldn't tell if his friend's cheeks were flushed with cold or excitement, "Seventeen years ago the American Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures discovered an obscure... breed, I suppose you could say, of ghosts located in both Illinois and Wisconsin that can actually be seen by muggles!"

"But what about the International Statute of Secrecy?"

Hermione shrugged, "The muggles seem to be playing it off as a tourist trap, so the Ministry doesn't seem to be particularly worried. There wouldn't be much they could do anyway, after all, Casper Magical Seminary not only has the largest population of ghosts in America, but is considered to be the most haunted place in the _entire world_. Along with being called home to the most famous spirit of modern history, Danny Phantom."

"Who?" Harry asked, feeling quite left out at the sound of Ron's gasp.

"He's this really cool ghost that's saved a ton of people," Ron grinned, "He's only been around for a few years, but he's helped out a lot of Aurors in America by catching some really dark wizards. I didn't know he hung around a _school_ though. If it was me, I'd—"

Twin squeals erupted from Harry's side, making him jump in fright. Looking over, he found an avid Lavender and Parvati, watching the three of them with twin looks of adoration.

"Is it true then, Hermione? Is the poltergeist, Danny Phantom, really coming to Hogwarts?" Lavender squeaked, her hands clutching Parvati's arm so tightly, Harry was worried the girl would have to visit Madam Pomfrey for some of _Borgis Baldwick's_ _Bruise De-Blemisher._ Parvati didn't seem to notice.

"He's a semi-corporeal species believed to have distant relations to Dementors and Lethifolds, not a poltergeist," Hermione informed them, before adding awkwardly, "And I suppose there's always the possibility he could. He's been found to have a fondness for Casper… But I'm doubtful—"

Lavender and Parvati ignored Hermione after that, giving off another happy shriek before disappearing back into the crowd, giggling madly, much to Harry's confusion.

ΔOl

Well there you go. Danny's not actually a ghost; he's a magical creature. Like Ryan Gosling.

Nearly forgot to update – completely forgot that it was Thursday.


	4. The Goblet of Fire II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter 16:** _ **The Goblet of Fire II**_

The sun had long since disappeared over the horizon, making it nearly impossible for Harry to see anything but his icy breath.

"Come on," Ron groaned irritably, "They're late! It's absolutely freezing out here! Where are they?"

Harry murmured in agreement as the cold began to spread up his legs (even Hermione's eager disposition had quickly become dismal) when a Ravenclaw second-year burst out, "Look! By the fields!"

Ron and Hermione's heads swivelled so fast Harry swore he heard them crick.

Looking over to where the Beauxbatons had stationed their giant carriage, their winged horses grazing nearby, an eerie green light was flashing in and out of existence, like a sharp tongue of electricity tasting the air, before bursting open with a loud _crack_. The horses whinnied frantically and galloped across the paddock out of sight.

Harry had to blink a few times until the green light had dimmed to reveal a deep glowing abyss, floating a few feet off the ground; the edges seemed to be trying to suck in everything around it as they flickered dangerously, like starving flames groping for kindling. Harry shivered.

"That's a 'ghost portal'," Hermione whispered excitedly from next to him, "It's a high potency of collective magic. It's similar to floo-powder, but there's no limit to where a person can go since it's not connected to a network. Only a collection of the most powerful wizards are able to make them, and it's rather dark magic."

"Why's it called a 'ghost portal'?" Harry asked. The flames seemed to dance in front of his eyes, beckoning him closer as they grappled at the night sky, dragging the darkness ravenously into its green depths.

"Because the only way to travel through one is to pass through somewhere they call the 'Land of the Dead', which is why most places have declared its use as prohibited."

Ron snorted, "The 'Land of the Dead'? You're joking. There's no way someone could even get into a place like that in the first place; you'd have better luck finding a banshee that can sing."

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her, "Well I never said that they went through the _actual_ 'Land of the Dead', simply that the passageway has been called that."

"Shut up," Harry said, "Someone's coming."

Dark liquidly silhouettes had appeared from in the depths of the portal, gaining solidity the closer they came toward the opening. As the shadows reached the burning lip, the portal flashed a bright green again, forcing Harry to raise his arms and avert his eyes as he and his classmates were basked in the violent light. Turning back, he found the glowing green wormhole gone, replaced with a small gathering of students dressed sharply in red, white and blue.

Dumbledore waltzed up to the group toward a tall, bald man with a paunchy stomach, not unlike Uncle Vernon's, who was shoving his way past the students to greet the Headmaster partway, "Ah, you must be Professor Lancer, Headmistress Ishiyama's replacement. How excellent that we can finally meet," Dumbledore held out his palm.

Professor Lancer grasped the hand tightly in his own, "Quite, Professor Dumbledore. The Headmistress apologises for her absence, but she couldn't justify leaving the school unattended for such a long period of time," waving a hand at the gathering of teenagers behind him, he announced proudly, "May I introduce Casper Magical Seminary's Tetrawizard contestants."

Dumbledore smiled warmly at the misfit group, "Welcome, children, to Hogwarts. All of us here hope you enjoy your stay at our fine institution. Now I might suggest that we head inside, as the weather is decidedly nippy," he chuckled, leading the Caspers into the entrance hall.

"Finally!" Ron cried in relief, as the Hogwarts students hurriedly followed the American school back into the warmth of the castle and into the Great Hall. Collapsing into their seats at the Gryffindor table, Ron was disappointed to find Durmstrangs had already seated themselves with the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy was sliding into a spot next to Krum, leaning over eagerly to speak to him.

"Cheer up, Ronnikins, we've managed to bag the Caspers," Ron's brother, Fred, said, falling into the seat next to Harry, thrusting a thumb down the length of the table. The majority of Casper Magical Seminary sat together at the end, laughing uproariously at something a muscular blond was saying. Only two students (a tall, skinny boy with messy hair like Harry's and a pretty girl dressed in black with purple eyes and a severe haircut) sat away from the others, closer to Harry and his friends, as they whispered to each other with soft smiles.

Harry turned away from the private moment when George spoke up, sliding in next to Hermione with Lee Jordan, "I say, can you see what I see, Gred?"

"Would it be the packet of _Filibuster Fireworks_ hanging out of that Casper's back pocket, Forge?"

"Indeed it is. Now, as a man after our own heart I feel like it's our responsibility to go introduce ourselves, don't you think, Lee?" George smiled widely as the twins shared a look with their friend, who seemed to be trying to keep himself from giggling hysterically.

"He's perfect."

"Why? Just because he's got a couple of fireworks you think he's going to want to hang out with you lot?" Ron scoffed.

"Ah, little brother of ours," A false look of pity spread across the twins' and Lee's faces, "You still have much to learn before you can even consider comprehending our greatness," Fred said conspiringly, standing up with a flourish, George and Lee following suit.

"Besides," George grinned down at Ron, "He's more likely to hang out with us than be stuck talking to your ugly mug," then the three of them wandered up the length of the table and dropped themselves down opposite the Casper couple, who jumped in surprise at the interruption.

"Well, that was rather rude of them," Hermione said, frowning as the three bowed low to the disgruntled-looking girl, noses nearly grazing the table-top, and shook hands with the tall boy, whose face was now the colour of his argyle sweater-vest.

"I know! I'm their brother! They shouldn't treat me like that!" Ron said outraged.

Harry simply watched the couple out of the corner of his eye as the boy hunched over to read a piece of parchment the twins had pulled out, the girl peering curiously over his shoulder. A mischievous lilt coming to rest on the duo's mouths as a fake wand was waggled in front of their faces.

ΔOl

There aren't enough words in the English language for 'school'. In actuality, a seminary is a school designed to teach worship and guide people to priesthood, but in this situation I altered its purpose to teach the ways of magic; hence why Danny's school is named _Casper Magical Seminary_.

I figured that since all the other schools had uniforms, Casper would have their own uniform as well, but modernised since British America (not Native America) is such a young country in comparison to their European counterparts. After a lot of thinking and considering, I decided to make the Casper's wear the uniform that Vlad Plasmius enforced on the students in the episode, _Eye for an Eye_ , just to give you all a clearer vision.


	5. The Goblet of Fire III

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter 16:** _ **The Goblet of Fire III**_

The goblet stood in the centre of the Hall, safely protected by its golden age-line as Harry watched it curiously, "Has anyone besides Angelina and that Slytherin ogre, Warrington, put their name in the cup?"

"Who knows," Ron replied, longingly admiring the goblet from over his breakfast, "I guess people could've snuck their names in last night when everyone was asleep."

"Cedric Diggory placed his name in first thing this morning," Hermione informed them knowingly.

Ron's grumbled, "He should have dropped his name down Moaning Myrtle's U-bend."

Harry ignored his friends as they began to send scathing remarks to one another. Carelessly glancing around the table, Harry spotted a sulking Lavender and Parvati sitting along with the rest of their dejected friends, "Why are they so upset?" he asked.

"Oh, ignore them. They've been like that since last night," Hermione scoffed, "They're just disappointed that their preciousDanny Phantom didn't turn up for the Tournament."

"I don't get it," Ron said, "I mean, yeah, Phantom's really cool and all, but I didn't think that they'd care _that_ much."

Harry nodded.

"You are both so oblivious," Hermione rolled her eyes at them, "They don't like him because of what he _does_ , but rather what he _looks_ like doing it."

"Huh?" Harry said intelligently.

"He's good looking," Hermione shortly answered, "He's been voted _Witch Weekly's_ 'Best Looking Wizard' for the past three years in a row – even though, technically, he's not really a wizard."

Ron threw a face, "Ugh. Typical girls."

"Oh, look, here come the Beauxbatons," Hermione said faintly, forcing Harry to hide a smirk as Ron spun around wildly, searching for the tell-tale, pale blue robes.

"Very funny, Hermione," Ron muttered grouchily, turning back in his seat to glower at his breakfast when he found none.

Cheers erupted from the Great Hall's entrance as a flock of red, white and blue made their way to the goblet. Lining up one after the other, the Caspers each began to drop their names into the cup, the age-line continued to sparkle undisturbed as they stepped over it.

Once an extremely pretty Latina girl had stepped back out of the ring, the boys of the group started to slap hands and pat each other on the back in celebration while the girls chattered excitedly to each other, flipping their long shiny hair in a pleased manner.

Off to the far side of the group, Harry spied the Casper couple from last night. He watched as the boy shook his head frantically, pointing to himself and the cup, while the girl waved a piece of parchment in front of his face, insistently gesturing towards the age-line.

Finally relenting, the boy snatched the slip of parchment and stormed over to the chalice, hesitating just outside the boundary. The blond boy Harry had seen last night suddenly seemed to notice him.

"What's wrong, Fenton? Too scared to try out, are you?" He called, his classmates egging him on with hisses and jeers, "Here, why don't I give you a little _help,_ " The blond strode over to the taller (but far skinnier) boy and smacked him on the back, much harder than he did his friends. Fenton stumbled into the circle before heaving himself upright with a dirty look towards the other Casper and reluctantly threw the scrap of parchment in the goblet before hurrying out of the Great Hall, the girl following shortly behind after dropping her own name in.

"I don't like him," Harry said as the three watched the blond and his friends howl with laughter, re-enacting the other boy's near-fall with exaggerated movements.

"Me nei'er," Ron agreed through a mouthful of egg. Hermione looked disgusted.

Harry looked up at the sound of clattering cutlery to find George and Ginny sitting down opposite them.

"Tell you what, though," George said as he grabbed a flask of pumpkin juice, "That Danny Fenton – you know, the one who resembles the thin end of a broomstick? – is a lovely bloke. His lady-friend, too. Complete opposites of that lot," he threw a look at the still jeering Caspers.

Ginny nodded, adding, "Especially Sam. She's all about rallying against 'The Man' – whoever that is – and standing up for peoples' rights. Acts kind of haughty, but still nice."

Ron paused in his shovelling, "When'd you meet them?" he asked Ginny.

"This morning, when I was giving George his mail while he was still in the Hospital Wing. Danny had an early morning run-in with one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts and was getting some burn salve," they all winced sympathetically, "Fred's still there, by the way. Madam Pomfrey can't seem to get his beard off. It's reached all the way down to his knees—"

"Anyway, we had a nice chat with Danny while he waited for Sam to meet him. Found out his parents are muggle inventors! They know all sorts of things that can help Gred and me out with our own stuff!" George grinned, "Not to mention dad would love them to death! They're just as mad as he is apparently!"

"And while those two were blathering on, Sam and I talked about _werewolf_ rightsof all things! Said they have a friend who'd been bitten in the past, called Wulf of all things," Ginny tittered, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. Harry briefly wondered how Professor Lupin was coping with his lycanthropy.

"Danny Fenton," Hermione murmured softly, "Short for Daniel, I'm guessing?"

George leant his elbows on the table, "I suppose so."

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her bushy mane of hair with a small frown, "Doesn't that name sound familiar to you? I know I've heard it before."

The Weasleys all looked at each other and shrugged, "Not a clue," Ron said unhelpfully.

Harry smiled at his friend, "Don't worry about it, Hermione. It's probably not important."

ΔOl

I really liked the idea of Wulf being a werewolf – and, given Sam's rebellious nature, I thought she'd be highly interested in the rights of magical creatures and the environments and the detriments that magic has toward it (she'd possibly be called an extremist in wizarding eyes). Danny is just a klutz; that's the only reason I can see him running into a Blast-Ended Skrewt so early in the morning.

Somebody asked me where Tucker was… he'll be around eventually. No Dani though, I didn't quite know how to incorporate her into this story. Sorry.

Review, please, and I'll see you next Sunday!


	6. The Goblet of Fire IV

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Sixteen:** _ **The Goblet of Fire IV**_

The Great Hall darkened as Dumbledore extinguished the candles with a wave of his wand, leaving only the flickering blue-white flames of the cup as a source of light from where it loomed over them in the centre of the room. Deep shadows crept their way into the Hall like spiders, moving silently through the near darkness, bearing down on them as the minutes ticked by.

"Any second now," Harry heard Lee whisper from nearby. He caught himself holding his breath.

The goblet's flames turned into a deep red, spitting embers furiously and a flower of fire burst out, propelling a charred and blackened piece of parchment out of the cup. Dumbledore snatched it out of the air, carefully smoothing and holding it out to read in the goblet's light, which had reverted back to its previous colouring.

"The champion for Durmstrang," the Headmaster's voice bounce off the dark walls with an echo, "Will be Viktor Krum!" hearty roars erupted from the Slytherin table as the rest of the Hall followed with boisterous applause.

Ron called out, "No surprise there!" as he clapped enthusiastically along with the rest of the students.

Harry could hear Karkaroff over the cheering as Krum made his way through a chamber off to the side of the Hall, "Bravo, Viktor! Well deserved!" he called out something proudly in Bulgarian that Harry couldn't understand.

The applause died quickly as the cup's flames once again turned a fierce red and another slip of parchment burst out. Grabbing the new name, Dumbledore announced, "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

The Great Hall once again fell into raucous cheering, "That's her, Ron!" Harry called out, watching the girl that resembled a Veela gracefully stand and make her way through the door, her smooth hair glimmering in the cup's light as she glided by.

"Ooh, the others don't look too happy," Hermione pointed cheerfully at the Beauxbaton girls, who were crying dramatically into their lace handkerchiefs, "And neither do the Caspers!" she giggled. Harry looked over to see more than one of the girls furiously hissing at their male classmates who didn't seem to notice as they torpidly watched after Fleur.

As the Beauxbaton exited the room, Ron snapped out of his daze, "Blimey," He shook his head, "She _has_ to be a Veela, Harry. There's no doubt."

The room turned red for a third time as the cup sparked, spitting out another scrap for Dumbledore's patient hand, "The champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table burst out in celebration, clapping their hands and stamping their feet as a jovial Cedric made his way past them, shaking his housemates' hands as they stuck them out. Harry caught Cho Chang clapping for Cedric from the Ravenclaw table with a beatific smile as he waved at her. The delicious Hallowe'en feast Harry had heartily consumed now left a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

"Pompous git," Ron muttered loud enough for Harry to hear, but quiet enough for Hermione not to catch as she clapped politely for the older student. Harry couldn't help but agree.

When the room was quiet once again, Dumbledore approached the cup; it seemed to be deliberating. Large blue flames erupting from its mouth only to die down just as quickly – sparks hissed angrily before the fire sputtered and went out completely. Whispers filled the darkened hall as students turned to each other, mutterings of confusion saturating the room.

Dumbledore reached out for the extinguished chalice with a deep frown, gingerly grazing his fingers over the wooden casting, only to quickly stagger back as the goblet once again flared to life. The fire had turned a sickening green as the cup shot out a fireball, soaring over ten feet high with a roar. Students screamed as the room was illuminated in green. A small, scorched piece of parchment flew out of the flames, fluttering whimsically back down to earth as the fire tumbled back into the chalice, collapsed into itself and flaring brightly once more before returning to its customary blue-white.

Dumbledore tentatively grabbed the parchment, holding it out in front of himself, "The Champion for Casper," the Headmaster cleared his throat. Harry saw movement in the corner of his eye as the blond Casper student from the other day stood up from his seat, smirking proudly at his peers as if he had already won, "Is Daniel Fenton."

Harry laughed as he watched the blond slowly lower himself back down with a look of shock, before his eyes flicked over to the lanky, dark-haired boy, whose expression matched his classmate's. Polite, but hesitant, applause sounded through the room, as students worriedly glanced at one another, still frightened by the goblet's sudden instability. With a shove from the girl, Sam, Daniel Fenton got to his feet and shuffled his way through to the allocated chamber, holding his head down as he passed by his replacement Headmaster and glowering peers.

"Well," Dumbledore spread his arms wide as he addressed the rest of the Hall once Danny had left, "Now that all four of our champions have been selected—" He broke off mid-speech, staring at the cup intently.

It had turned red once more.

ΔOl

Finally the cup has announced the champions! It was never really a big surprise who was going to be pick though, huh? I mean, white-haired superhero with a heart of gold or a big blonde lug-head. I couldn't really imagine Sam to be a champion either though, she seems too self-involved and would probably be the type to boycott competitive sports overall, despite being good at them… Unlike Danny, who's terrible at them. I bet he would be awful at Quidditch too, since it's like dodgeball in mid-air; bludgers would be his worst nightmare.

Also, this is late simply because, as expected, I forgot to upload it. It was ready to go but I got distracted. I'm not even certain what by, but it happened. So I'm sorry and I'll see you on Wednesday!


	7. The Four Champions

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Seventeen:** _ **The Four Champions**_

Ludo Bagman's smile was so large Harry had to wonder if the man's face was beginning to hurt, "Extraordinary. Absolutely extraordinary. You truly are remarkable, Harry, my boy," he announced in wonderment, squeezing Harry's arm cheerily, ignoring the way Harry was fruitlessly trying to pull himself out of the ministry official's grip.

The contemptuous glares the other champions threw at him were so strong that it briefly made Harry consider heading back to the Dursley's early for Christmas.

"But surely zere is a mistake, Meester Bagman," Fleur announced, her mouth a harsh line, "Eet should be impossible for someone as young as 'e to compete. Zee rules—"

"The rules about the age limit have only been instated this year as a safety measure, really. They're sort of… off to the side you can say, Miss Delacour. There aren't any actual rules in the Tournament guidelines saying that Harry here can't compete. So, I suppose… With your name coming out of the goblet… I mean, the age limit was never officially… Harry will _have_ to compete, considering—"

The door to the chamber swung open, revealing a rather unorthodox group that barged their way through.

Professor Dumbledore headed through the door first, his expression unreadable, quickly followed by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor Lancer, Professor McGonagall and Snape. A wave of noise rushed across Harry as he heard the loud whispers of hundreds of students just outside the door before it was firmly shut.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur cried as she rushed over to her Headmistress, "Zey are saying zat zey are actually going to allow zat little boy to compete against us!"

Harry felt his face scrunch up angrily despite the shocked numbness that had spread across his body since his name had been called. _Little boy?_

" _Sonnets of a Sorcerer,_ Dumbledore!" Professor Lancer's neck was quickly becoming redder and redder, "Are you trying to play us a fool? _Two champions_? I understand that Casper is new to the Tournament, but that doesn't mean you have the right to treat us like imbeciles, I'll have you know!" The bald man's pale blue robes swished fervently at his feet and his black crinkled tie looking like it had seen better days as he wrung it furiously.

"Zat is exactly what we are also thinking, Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime had raised herself to her impressive height, the top of her head grazing the embezzled chandelier as her black silk-covered bosom swelled indignantly.

"I was fairly certain that the Tournament rules stated that each school is only allowed _one_ champion, Dumbledore. Or have we all been misreading them the past few centuries?" Karkaroff asked smarmily, moving to stand beside Krum from where he glowered.

Professor Lancer nodded, "I think I speak for everyone that we were also under the impression that your age-line would have kept under-aged students from entering the competition. If I had known it was a hoax to give your students the upper hand, I would have had a much broader range of candidates enter, and Casper might have actually found a champion capable of winning. No offence, Mr. Fenton," Danny let out an incensed growl from his spot next to Cedric Diggory that sent a surprising chill running down Harry's spine. From the looks of the rest of the room, Harry wasn't the only one affected.

"Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's blatant frivolity with school rules, Lancer. It's no one's fault but the boy's own. Potter has made a nasty habit of trying to break as many as he can while attending Hogwarts," Snape's dark, hate-filled eyes swivelled onto Harry, "He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived—"

"That's enough, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. Snape fell quiet, but his eyes didn't leave Harry as he stared at him through his greasy black locks.

Dumbledore turned to Harry, his face filled with curiosity rather than the malice the other heads directed his way, "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" The Headmaster asked evenly.

"No," Harry replied immediately. He could feel the stares of everyone as they bored into his skull. Snape scoffed from the corner he had retreated to.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" Dumbledore continued, as if he hadn't heard Snape.

" _No,_ " Harry said.

"Eet is obvious 'e is lying! Why do you insist on playing zis game with ze child?" Madame Maxime burst out, her arms curled protectively around her student as if Harry was suddenly going to lash out at them, "Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake with ze age-line—"

"Dumbledore has made no mistakes, I can promise you," Professor McGonagall said crossly, "Really, this is utter nonsense! There is no possible way for Harry to have crossed the line himself, and Dumbledore trusts him enough to believe that he did not ask another student to help him. I'm certain that should be more than adequate proof for everyone else!" she sent Snape a pointed look.

"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman, surely you have something to say about this situation?" Karkaroff asked smoothly, his demeanour seemingly calm.

Harry suddenly noticed Crouch standing by the far wall, his face half concealed in shadows, making his already skinny and gaunt face seem almost skeletal. His thin moustache twitched, "We must abide by the rules written. The boy's name was officially announced by the Goblet of Fire, thus binding him to the competition. The age limit does not apply."

"Surely you must be joking?" Lancer said disbelieved turning to Bagman.

Bagman grinned boyishly before admitting, "Well, I'm pretty sure Barty considers the Triwizard – er, I mean Tetrawizard rulebook to be in his collection of bedside reading. He knows them a lot better than me."

Karkaroff's face dropped all illusions of judiciousness, twisting into an ugly scowl, "Then I must insist that the names be resubmitted for the grounds to be even. Set up the goblet again until the rest of us have two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But, Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that!" cried Bagman, "The Goblet's already put itself out – it won't be able to be lit until the next Tournament—"

"—Of which Casper will not be partaking in!" ground out Lancer, "This was supposed to station the alliance between our schools, Dumbledore. After all the work we have placed into forming this union… well, if this is the standard that you treat your guests, then perhaps it would be better if we just leave!"

"Empty threat, Lancer," a gruff voiced called out from near the door, "You can't just leave your student here – he has to compete now. Binding magical contract and all that – same reason Potter's stuck competing too. Convenient, eh?"

Moody limped his way into the room, heading for the fire. Every second step he took made a resounding _thunk_.

"Convenient? I'm afraid I don't know what you're saying, Moody," Karkaroff spat, looking like he was trying to intimidate the ex-Auror, yet his hands shook violently.

Moody's lopsided mouth looked almost sickening in the firelight as he sneered, "Don't you? It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in the cup for him, knowing that if he was chosen, he'd be forced to compete."

"Eet sounds like someone wanted to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple," said Madame Maxime.

"Quite right, Madame," Karkaroff snapped his robe's cuffs at Moody, before bowing to the gigantic woman with a flourish, "In fact, I shall be complaining of this downright flamboyant act of ill-sportsmanship to both the Ministry of Magic _and_ the International Confederation of Wizards—"

"If anybody's got a reason to complain, it's Potter," Moody barked out, "But funnily enough… I haven't heard him say a word."

"And why should 'e?" Fleur huffed, stamping her foot dramatically, "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave been waiting for weeks for zis opportunity. Fame… fortune – zis is a chance people would die for!"

A soft voice interrupted Fleur's spiel, "Let him have a go."

All eyes in the room swivelled to the dark-haired boy next to Cedric. Danny Fenton's eyes seemed to glow in the dim firelight as he smiled blithely at Harry.

"Wh-what?" Karkaroff sputtered. Madame Maxime gaped at Danny as if he had personally insulted her.

Lancer spoke up, using his ruined tie to mop at his forehead, "Mr. Fenton, I don't think you're in a position to say anything on the subject—"

"Why not? If we know the rules can't be changed, why make such a fuss over it? Give the kid a break," Danny said simply, ignoring the Beauxbatons' outraged cries and Karkaroff's irate squawk. Harry watched nervously as the older boy turned to him, "You're in grade four, right?"

Harry nodded, a bit put out by the terminology, "Y-yeah. I'm a fourth year."

Danny smile seemed almost nostalgic, "You'd be surprised what someone can do at fourteen, Professors. I say let him try out."

Harry wondered briefly if the Casper student was making a cruel joke, but couldn't detect any malice in his voice as the adults once again fell into raucous disagreement.

ΔOl

I got a very bold and excited review that announced that it was Wednesday and that I should update – thank goodness for that lovely person because I completely forgot about it this week. Technically, I'm late again since it is Thursday afternoon here, but the rest of the world is still on Wednesday, right?

…I just checked the international time-zones. Apparently it's not Wednesday anymore. Sorry about that!

Update will (hopefully) be on Sunday and don't forget to leave a review, even if it is to remind me to update on time.


	8. The Weighing of the Wands I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Eighteen:** _ **The Weighing of the Wands**_

Harry was biting down on his tongue so hard, he was worried he was going to make it bleed.

"So, Harry. Can you remember your parents at all?" Rita Skeeter's cat-eye glasses gleamed in the dim light of the broom cupboard, her acid green quill scribbling fervently across the parchment.

"No," Harry gritted out through his clenched jaw.

"How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Tetrawizard Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?"

Harry was quickly becoming annoyed now. How would he have any idea how his parents would feel if they were alive? Rita Skeeter watched him unblinking, her square jaw jutting out as she leant closer, as if Harry was about to burst into tears and whisper all his secrets if she acted sincere enough. Harry frowned and glanced down at the parchment the Quick-Quotes quill was scurrying across.

 _Tears filled those startlingly green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents he can barely remember._

"I have _not_ got tears in my eyes!" Harry yelled.

Before Rita Skeeter could reply, the door to the broom cupboard was pulled open, sending in a burst of light that left Harry blinking helplessly as his eyes adjusted. Albus Dumbledore stood in the narrow doorway, looking down at them from where they were squashed between the cleaning equipment.

" _Dumbledore!_ " Rita Skeeter squealed in apparent delight, but Harry noted that her quill and parchment had suddenly disappeared, and Rita's red varnished fingers were hastily snapping her crocodile-skin bag shut, "How are you?" a thin smile made its way across her lips as she primly stood up, extending one of her mannish, clawed hands out to the Headmaster, "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"

"Exceedingly petty and debauched, if I don't say so myself," the Headmaster replied, his eyes twinkling as he dutifully shook hands with the woman, "I particularly enjoyed the line of which I believe you described me as an 'obsolete dingbat'."

Rita Skeeter didn't even attempt to look ashamed, "I was simply making a statement, my dear, about how some of your actions may be considered… old-fashioned to the public eye. People just simply want to know—"

"Ah, I would be delighted to hear your reasoning for your rude accusations sometime, Ms Skeeter, but I'm afraid to say that we must discuss the matter at a later date. Now, however, it appears that Mr. Fenton has joined us from wherever it was he had disappeared to and we can finally begin the Weighing of the Wands. Sadly, we are unable to do that if you stow away with one of the competitors in a broom cupboard."

Rita Skeeter seemed to ignore the last part of Dumbledore's sentence, "Fenton, you say? Why, isn't he that adorably scrumptious American muggle-born?" Rita Skeeter's nails began a drumming pattern against her bag, twitching furiously against the clasp, "Tell me, how do you feel to not only be helping strengthen the relationship with our international brethren, but also shorten society's bridge of prejudice by letting a muggle-born participate in the Tournament? He's the first of his kind is he not, Dumbledore?"

Harry frowned as he tried to push himself past the reporter, getting a mouthful of golden curls for his efforts.

"As I said, Ms Skeeter, this is neither the time nor the place for such questions. Perhaps another day," resting a hand on Harry's shoulder, Dumbledore directed him into the room. The rest of the champions were already seated by the door, and he sat down between Cedric and Danny, the latter appeared to be slightly out of breath, his hair mussed as if he had been running.

Looking away from Danny, Harry noted a long velvet-covered table, where five of the six judges were seated – Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor Lancer, Mr. Crouch and Ludo Bagman. Rita Skeeter had lowered herself down into a nearby corner, sucking enthusiastically on one of her Quick-Quote quills before perching it on a piece of parchment. The brutish woman squinted up to see him staring at her, only for her eyes to slide over to Danny, sending the older student a wink and a smile. Harry watched as the older boy's eyebrows rose in confusion.

"Now that all of our contestants are finally present," Dumbledore sent Harry and Danny an amused glance, "May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?"

ΔOl

Short chapter, and yep, Danny's a muggleborn. I felt it suited him. Could you imagine Maddie and Jack as magical? They'd most likely end up like Loony— er, _Luna_ Lovegood's poor mother with how volatile potion ingredients can be. Well… Maddie might be all right, but Jack would be a goner.

And Rita Skeeter, you saucy minx, you. So fantastically evil. I bet she doesn't ever wash her hands, considering she never actually gets them dirty.

Review, please! It tells me whether people are actually enjoying this story.


	9. The Weighing of the Wands II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Eighteen:** _ **The Weighing of the Wands II**_

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" Dumbledore announced, lowering himself into his place at the judges' table, "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. There was Mr. Ollivander, who Harry had purchased his first wand from and who had revealed to the bewildered eleven year old that he really was magic all those years ago in Diagon Alley.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" asked Mr. Ollivander, his hand already held out in an expectant manner as he crossed to the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept herself up and proudly pronounced her wand.

Ollivander held it in front of himself, staring intently at it, "Hmm…" he twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his face, as if trying to peer into it.

"Yes," he murmured quietly, "Nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur stated fondly, "One of my grandmuzzer's."

So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry, making a mental note to tell Ron… only to remember that Ron wasn't taking to him.

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "Yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if it this suits you…"

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of tulips burst from the wand tip.

He seemed satisfied with the result, "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," he said, snatching the flowers and passing them to Fleur along with her wand, "Mr. Diggory, you're next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her. Harry bit back a snort when Danny next to him was mistakenly hit in the face with Fleur's bouquet as she returned to her seat, making him sneeze.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand, "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn… must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches… ash… pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition… You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," grinned Cedric.

Harry looked down at his wand. It was covered in fingerprints and what he could only guess was margarine from breakfast that morning. He gathered a fistful of robe from his knee and tried to rub it clean surreptitiously. Several gold sparks shot out of the end of it. Danny gave him an amused look, Fleur stared down at him patronisingly, and he desisted.

Ringlets of smoke poured out of the end of Cedric's wand, circling the room, and Mr. Ollivander pronounced himself satisfied.

"Mr. Krum, if you please."

Viktor Krum dragged himself from his seat, hunched over and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust his wand into the proffered hand and stood scowling, hands shoved into the pockets of his robes.

Mr. Ollivander hummed again, "This is a Gregorovich creation, unless I'm mistaken? A fine wandmaker, though the style is never quite what I… however…"

He eyed the wand critically with what Harry could only describe as suspicion, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes, hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who grunted, "Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… Avis!"

The hornbeam wand set off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," Mr. Ollivander nodded as the birds flew into the horizon, handing back Krum's wand, "Two more? Very well, come on, Mr. Potter."

Harry got to his feet as Krum slouched back into his chair and walked up to Mr. Ollivander, handing him his wand.

"Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming, "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

Harry could remember too. He could remember it as though it happened yesterday.

Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.

"Lastly, Mr. Fenton?"

Harry slipped back into his seat as Danny passed him, handing Mr. Ollivander a thin, long wand that resembled a jagged strip of charcoal crudely hewn onto shining white bone. Mr. Ollivander stared at it unblinking as he twirled it in his hands, studying it so hard that Harry suspected that he was trying to see _through_ the wand.

"Curious indeed," Mr. Ollivander muttered, "This wand has not been in your possession for long, has it, Mr. Fenton?"

"Only three years," Danny admitted with a blush, "My first wand refused to work partway through fourth grade."

"The will of a wand can change with the will of its master. It's not uncommon," Mr. Ollivander waved him off, "It is an old practise to use more than one wood for a wand, however. It's a lost art, many wandmakers have died from it – it makes wands highly impractical and very volatile. It takes a particular kind of wizard to handle a cross-wood."

Harry watched curiously as Danny set his jaw in challenge. Mr. Ollivander's mouth was a taut line but his eyes danced, "Yew is a powerful wood – very dangerous if not wielded properly. And you are aware that blackwood is traditionally not used in wandmaking, yes? It lacks any magical properties; its only purpose would be to channel magic directly from a wizard, which can be very treacherous indeed."

Danny opened his mouth, but Mr. Ollivander ignored him, turning his attention back to the wand, "Four hundred years old, sturdy, inflexible… eleven and a half inches…"

Mr. Ollivander stared expectantly at Danny, who suddenly appeared rather indignant and embarrassed.

"It's Threstal," he muttered.

Recognition and wonder seemed to flicker across Mr. Ollivander's face, "Aaaah, I see. There was only one known wandmaker that ever experimented with Threstal hairs outside of lore."

He delicately handed Danny his wand back, "I believe that this particular wand will not be receptive to my efforts. If you could do the honours, Mr. Fenton."

Danny swished his wand, and a torrent of wind flurried throughout the room, tugging ferociously at Harry's hair and robes, making him squint as it scratched dryly at his eyes; Madam Maxime gave out a surprised cry and Karkaroff swore violently, before the wind died down as quickly as it came.

Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands excitedly, "Brilliant! Absolutely fantastic. I never believed I would get the opportunity to witness the craftsmanship of such a wonder as Clockwork. Truly impressive; a wandmaker who defied time and age."

Mr. Ollivander shooed Danny back to his seat, who looked rather relieved, collapsing into it.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table, "You may go back to your lessons now – or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end—"

Feeling as though something had gone right today, Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera hidden in the shadows next to Rita Skeeter jumped up and cleared his throat.

"Photos, Dumbledore! Photos!" cried Bagman, excitedly, "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er – yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again, "And then perhaps some individual shots," her gleaming stare swivelled to Danny next, who looked slightly sick.

"Very well," Bagman clapped his hands, "Everyone, line up! Come along now!"

ΔOl

I researched and wrote this chapter in just a few hours. It is one in the morning and I am absolutely exhausted. This chapter was inspired by a reviewer who questioned what Danny's wand would be. To be honest I hadn't even considered the concept (stupidly) and while I didn't go as wild with the wand cores as the reviewer suggested (although they were really rather helpful), I feel I found an even balance as to what Danny's wand should be.

Clockwork made a sort of appearance in this story – he was a wandmaker centuries ago (possibly before he became a 'ghost'). He seems wise enough. I also believe along with being a wandmaker, Clockwork would have been a seer since he looks into the future and past so often.

To break down Danny's wand: it is forms primarily of yew, which is the wood that Voldemort's first wand was made of. It claims to endow the possessor with the power of life and death.

The other wood is from one of the rarest trees in the world, called Mpingo, or blackwood – an African tree that is extremely durable and old, often without interference able to grow for over 200 years, and, if you strip back the bark or chop through to the heart of it, is a beautiful ebony tone right through. For Danny, its primary use would be to channel his magic directly from his body, making it dangerous and volatile due to it not being filtered.

Danny's core is made of Threstal tail hair – as most of you would be aware, Threstals are only able to be seen by those who have witnessed death, so I found it rather fitting that Danny would own such a wand. It is also the core of the Elder Wand, which is an interesting detail. Completely irrelevant, but interesting.

Review please! Update will be on Sunday, Australian time, Saturday everywhere else.


	10. The First Task I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty:** _ **The First Task I**_

"Potter, the champions have to head to the grounds now… you have to get ready for the first task," Professor McGonagall's voice seemed strained in Harry's ears as she stood rigidly next to the Gryffindor table.

"Okay," Harry nodded, dropping his fork onto his untouched plate with a clatter as he stood from his seat.

A comforting had touched his elbow. Glancing down he found Hermione smiling worriedly up at him, "Good luck, Harry. You'll be fine!"

"Yeah," Harry sputtered out hoarsely as he trailed behind the Transfiguration professor out of the Hall, his tongue feeling like it had swelled over three times its size in his mouth and his left pinkie finger had appeared to have developed a nervous twitch. He didn't dare look in Ron's direction.

McGonagall didn't seem like herself either, her steps were overly precise as she bustled Harry down the stone stairs of the entrance into the chilled November air, only to stop him at the base with a hand on his shoulder.

"Now, don't panic," she said rehearsed, "Just keep a level head and everything will be fine… Everything is under control… We have wizards monitoring the situation the whole time if things get out of hand… Nothing to be worried about... Just do your best and nobody will think any less of you... Are you alright?"

"Yes," Harry heard himself lie, "Yes, I'm fine."

McGonagall watched him for a moment before turning on her heel, her spine still unnaturally straight as she led him around the edge of the Forbidden Forest until he could no longer see the lake or the castle. As they headed towards a familiar clump of trees on the edge of the forest, Harry found that a large tent had been erected, hiding the dragon enclosure from sight.

"You have to go in there and meet with the other champions," McGonagall said unevenly, coming to a halt just outside the tent flap, "And wait for your turn, Potter… Mr. Bagman is already in there to tell you… about the _particulars_. Good luck."

With that, McGonagall gave him one last worried glance before heading back in the direction of the castle. Harry felt his tongue swell back up, threatening to choke him as he pushed his way into the tent.

Fleur Delacour was seated on a low stool off to the side, looking far less composed than her usual self. Her skin was clammy and tinged grey, her usually shiny hair flat and lifeless. Krum was hiding in a corner of the tent, an even deeper frown creasing his face as he moodily ignored everyone. Cedric had taken to pacing the length of the tent, muttering to himself under his breath while Danny leant against one of the supporting pillars nearby, his expression distant and pained as he fiddled with a small diamond ring. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small nervous smile which Harry struggled to return.

"Harry, my boy! Good-oh, you're here!" Bagman cried happily, waving him further inside, "Make yourself at home! Don't be shy! Come around everyone!"

Bagman was wearing his old Wasp robes again, looking quite out of place in the circle of ashen-faced champions with his almost manic cheeriness.

"Well, now that you're all here, it's time to reveal the big surprise!" said Bagman, the usually friendly smile was sickening to Harry under the circumstances, "Now. Once the crowd has all entered the stadium, I'm going to offer you this bag," he held out a small purple silk sack and shook it merrily at them, "From which you will select your, er, _specified model_ to face off against!" Bagman's face clouded in confusion momentarily, "What else was I supposed to tell you lot? Ah, yes! Your goal for this task is to _collect the_ _golden egg!_ "

Bagman looked around the group excitedly, as if expecting to see them rushing to be chosen first. Cedric was nodding as if he understood the ministry representative before turning to continue his pacing, his complexion turning slightly green as his pace sped up. Fleur and Krum hadn't reacted, simply looking as Harry felt. Danny had sat down in Fleur's vacated seat to hold his head in his hands, shaking it softly.

Soon after Bagman's announcement, Harry heard the thundering of feet as they passed by the tent, students joking and laughing easily in excitement. Harry felt a slight resentment against them as the students' careless chatter made him feel even more alienated and sick.

Bagman tugged open the neck of the purple bag, which was now smoking lightly, "Ladies first," he said in an odd form of chivalry.

Fleur stuck a hesitant, shaking hand into the sack, and drew out a perfect, tiny model of a dragon, a Welsh Green with the number 'two' around its neck. The Welsh Green snorted in the palm of her hand, flapping its wing irately. Fleur's face quickly transformed from meek to one filled with determination, Krum's too. It was obvious that both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff had told them about the upcoming task.

"Wait, we're going against _dragons?_ "

Harry and the others turned to look at the shocked Danny, who was staring wide-eyed at Fleur's model. Harry cringed. Harry couldn't remember seeing the Casper the night Hagrid showed him the dragons. Obviously neither he nor his replacement Headmaster had known.

Bagman's face stretched wider, seemingly ignorant to Danny's fear-filled expression, "Yes! It'll be a one on one against an almighty magical beast, with only a wand to defend yourself with. Isn't it fascinating?"

"Not really, no," Danny admitted.

Bagman ignored the Casper champion's response to instead shove the sack out to Krum and Cedric – Krum respectively drawing the scarlet Chinese Fireball with the number 'three', and Cedric pulling out the greyish-blue Swedish Short-Snout with the number 'one'.

Then it was Harry's turn, the dark depths of the pouch hiding whatever dragon was wait him. Closing his eyes, Harry shoved his hand into the bag, grasping at the first model he laid his hand on and yanked it out. Peeking an eye open, he nervously unfolded his hand.

A tiny moving replica of the Hungarian Horntail sat in his palm, the spiked tail swishing madly as those haunting yellow eyes glared up at him, a 'four' wrapped around its black scaled neck.

Bagman had quickly moved onto Danny, saying, "Lucky last, my boy."

Danny let out a rattling, high-pitched laugh as he tersely pulled out the model. A sandy-coloured dragon sat in the older student's hand, its sharply spiked back and short tail made it resemble a reptilian hedgehog with wings, a number 'five' tied around its neck. The replica snapped at Danny's fingers.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman, tucking the silk sack into his Quidditch robes, "You each have your own dragons! You can see they each have a number tied around there neck – this is the order that you will each be going out in, get it? Cedric, you'll be first. Just head out to the arena when the whistle is blown, alright? I'll have to leave soon to join the judges. Harry, can I just have a quick word with you outside?"

Casting one last glance around the tent, Harry reluctantly followed the sportsman outside.

ΔOl

Yes, Danny, Dragons. You're screwed.

People have been hassling me as to when we would actually get to the Tournament. It's called suspense and, since I apparently managed to peeve a lot of people off with the pace, it worked. So HA! You fell for it!

Also a lot of people are complaining about the length; this is a snapshot story, all of the chapters are less than 2000 words – think of it as a drabble series. I update twice a week anyway so I don't see what all the fuss is about...

Props to the people that doubted this story but decided to stick and found they liked it too! That's a pretty sweet thing to hear.

Enjoy, review and I'll see you Wednesday.


	11. The First Task II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty:** _ **The First Task II**_

"You were the best, you know. No worries," Ron, cheerily remarked, as the two wandered out to the stadium seats, Harry clutching his golden egg and Firebolt in each hand, "Cedric did this weird transfiguration thing by turning a rock into a dog to distract it – it worked pretty well at first, until the dragon decided that Cedric was more interesting and came after him before he could reach the egg. He got burnt pretty bad, too. Only just got away. And Fleur tried to do some sort of charm to make hers go into a trance or something – which it did, but then it snored and sent out a jet of fire at her skirt – she put it out in the end though. And Krum went all out with his. He was probably best right after you! Flinging some sort of curse at its eye, which worked really well – until it started writhing and stomping around, squashing all the real eggs. The judges didn't like that, you're not supposed to damage any of the real ones, you see. Kind of excited to see what Fenton's got up his sleeve. It's not gonna be as good as yours, but who knows."

Harry felt guilty as he recalled the deathly pale face of the older boy as he had left him in the tent, clutching onto his diamond ring for dear life as he muttered to himself about needing to talk to someone called Dora.

Ron drew a deep breath after his explanation as they reached the outskirts of the arena, quickly finding seats near the back, out of the other students' sight. Now that Harry had a clearer view of the stadium without the Horntail baring down on him, he could see the six judges lined up above the dragons' gate, their box elegantly draped in gold.

"You're rated from one to ten," Ron helpfully added, and Harry squinted up the field as Madame Maxime raised her wand in the air, a silver ribbon bursting out of the end to twist into the number eight.

"Not bad!" Ron said over the applauding crowd, "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder…"

Mr. Crouch came next, a nine shooting out the end of his wand, Dumbledore following suit, making the crowd erupt in raucous cheering.

Bagman was next, not hesitating to fire out a ten.

"Ten?" Harry cried incredulously," But I got hurt… What's he playing at?"

Ron thumped Harry on the back, "Don't complain, mate!" It was becoming difficult to hear Ron over the jubilant crowd, despite Ron sitting right next to him.

Lancer was much slower, throwing up an eight after some deliberation.

Next was Karkaroff, who carelessly flicked a four into the air, much to the audience's displeasure.

" _Four?_ " Ron cried, outraged, "Why that no-good, lousy, slithering scum—"

Harry laughed at Ron's indignation, a warmth welling up in his chest that he had sorely missed since Ron had left. He didn't care about Karkaroff's blatant favouritism, not when he had his best friend back.

Ron slumped back in his seat, "The nerve of him. At least you get to see Fenton's turn."

Harry weakly nodded as he watched a confounded dragon being led out into the centre of the field. It was smaller than Harry's (a little under forty feet) but as its heavy-set jaw audibly cracked to show a double row of fangs to the crowd, Harry flinched, watching the spikes on its back quiver violently at the dragon trainers, shuffling further into the arena with its stub of a tail swinging wildly like a club. He hadn't spotted this dragon when Hagrid had snuck him out.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried from next to him, as he watched the trainers, including his brother, Charlie, coax the monstrosity of a dragon further into the stadium grounds, "That's a Rwandan Razorback! My brother's told me stories about those! They live in volcanoes in Africa and have this really powerful fire. Charlie said they hold the record for the most muggle and wizard deaths _ever_. You're lucky you didn't have to go up against that one, Harry. I'd go a Hungarian Horntail over that thing any day."

Harry leant forward in his seat as the dragon trainers quickly evacuated the stadium, releasing all of their Confundus Charms at once leaving the dragon hissing at the crowd, protectively circling its eggs.

"Harry, Ron!" Hermione rushed up to their seats with a smile, "I just remembered where I knew Daniel Fenton's name! Oh, and congratulations on your score, Harry."

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry asked, glad to see that she had stopped crying since his and Ron's reunion.

Hermione's hands fluttered in excitement, "I spent positively _ages_ trying to figure out where I had heard Daniel's name when I wasn't helping you out with the Summoning Spell, but I finally remembered! Do you recall what Professor McGonagall told us in class last week?"

"No," Harry and Ron said bluntly.

Hermione pursed her lips, "Well I do. She was telling us about the Animagus Registry and its—"

A high-pitched whistle pierced through the air, jolting the trio from their conversation as their eyes fell on the stadium grounds. Danny Fenton stumbled into the arena, looking far too sallow-skinned to be healthy and making Harry wondered if that was how he looked when he had walked out.

Bagman's voice echoed throughout the stadium from the judging box, "And our final champion has entered the arena against the mighty Razorback! After that spectacular show by Hogwarts' Potter, we're all wondering what Fenton is going to do…"

The prowling dragon focused on the tall boy when Bagman's words boomed overhead, snarling through its double-set of teeth, its spikes standing on end, watching as Danny slowly move his way further into the field, carefully dodging and weaving around rocks slowly out of the dragon's sight. Harry held his breath as he followed Danny who was expertly hiding himself from view, stealthily creeping ever closer to the Razorback's eggs, his hand never reached for his wand.

When he was less than fifty feet from the dragon's nest a noticeable laugh escaped from the Caspers' seating, as both the blond boy that bullied Danny and his friend (a muscular boy Harry had learnt was called Kwan) stood up from their seats and booed loudly.

Harry frowned at the disruption but attempted to ignore it, turning back to the grounds only to find he had lost sight of Danny. The boos were louder now as more of Danny's classmates joined in until Harry was finally able to catch a glimpse of the seventh-year, crawling on his stomach less than twenty feet from the golden egg and the Razorback, who had become side-tracked by the Caspers' jeering.

This apparently wasn't satisfying for the crowd as a voice called from somewhere in the stands, " _Reducto!_ "

A blast of blue light collided with a large boulder nearby Danny, incinerating it and making him jump back with a cry. The blast had drawn the Razorback's attention, and it roared angrily at the sight of Danny so close to its eggs.

The dragon leapt at the Casper, a heavily clawed foot reached out to stomp him (earning a squeak of fright from Hermione) who quickly rolled out of the way only to tumble down into a narrow crevice to avoid its short, thick tail as it was swung at him. The Razorback snarled at losing its prey, its talons scraping at the fissure where Danny had disappeared, pawing for its trapped victim.

It roared its frustration and Harry watched as it unhinged its jaw, a deep rumbling echoed throughout the silent arena as a deep orange began to burn brighter in the back of the dragon's throat, embers escaping from the sides of its jowls.

Harry bit back his own shout as shrieks of panic filled the air. Dragon trainers were rushing out onto the field in a desperate attempt to save the trapped boy. He watched horrified as their stupefying curses bounced harmlessly off the Razorback's raised spines, its gaze never shifting from its target as the fire flared in its mouth. Harry though he heard Danny's friend, Sam, call out for him over the screams.

"Now nobody panic! The trainers have everything under control! Mister Fenton will be fine!" Bagman squeaked.

The blast of fire from the dragon's mouth melted the surrounding rock in seconds, blowing the dragon trainers off their feet with the force, some of the closer ones' robes catching fire. Visible waves of heat rolled across the ground as Harry watched Danny be incinerated, the earth melting into a boiling pit of lava.

A solemn silence permeated the air as the Razorback stomped its feet in triumph and trotted back over to its eggs, satisfied.

Bagman's amplified voice trembled, "I-I'm sorry to say, everyone, that Daniel Fenton of the Casper Magical Seminary will no longer be competing in the Tournament… That is all."

ΔOl

 _Some people thought that since Danny has gone against Dragons before, he'd be fine with it. In my opinion, going against a dragon (no matter how many times you've done it in the past) is still pretty darn scary._

 _Sorry for this being late again. I've had some personal issues as of late that I'm trying to sort through._

 _Review please. I know it's a bit of a cliffhanger, but I'm a jerk like that._


	12. The First Task III

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty:** _ **The First Task III**_

Hermione was shaking her head softly, muttering to herself, "No... I was _certain_. Why didn't he…?"

"Hermione?" Harry asked hesitantly, dragging his eyes away from the destruction in front of him.

Hermione's voice was strangely pinched, "But he was so _nice_ to me! He _can't_ have…"

Ron laid a hand on her shoulder worriedly, "Hey, Hermione, are you okay?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, when a soft rumble swept through the grounds, growing louder as the stadium began to shake, making Harry's glasses slide down his nose and almost sending Ron tumbling from his seat.

"Bloody hell, what was that?"

Hermione looked confused, "An earthquake? That's not possible. There aren't any tectonic plates for hundreds of miles," she paused, a smile spreading across her face, "No, it must be…"

"Must be what?" Ron asked distractedly, his teeth clacking together from the force of the tremors.

"Look!" a Durmstrang cried out from a few seats below, Harry spun around to look out at the field as the Rwandan Razorback seemed to cower away from the rapidly cooling rock as it cracked ominously, the lava pit bubbling furiously.

Harry watched as a great shining pale-grey wing pierced through the melted earth, its twin following shortly behind as a great silver-white dragon dragged itself out of the molten ground, reaching far above their heads as it extended its long neck with a mighty cry.

"A Ukrainian Ironbelly…" Ron whispered from beside Harry as the dragon shook itself clear of scorching rubble, its pale scales gleaming like steel in the sunlight as it staring down the Razorback with slitted red eyes. The Razorback flared its wings again, spikes vibrating in anger as it hunched protectively over its eggs.

A new wave of screams exploded from the crowd while Bagman stuttered helplessly, "Well… My word…"

"I knew it," Hermione said, crossing her arms smugly as the Ironbelly snarled at its smaller opponent.

"Knew _what_ , Hermione? That a dragon was going to burst out of the ground right where Danny was?" Harry said smarmily.

"No, that Daniel Fenton _is_ a dragon."

Ron looked baffled, "You're joking!"

"It's quite a simple answer, really. One both of you would have known if you ever bothered to listen to one of Professor McGonagall's lectures."

"Aw, come on, just tell us already."

Hermione sighed heavily as she turned back to the dragons on the field, of which the Ironbelly was circling the Razorback attentively, flapping its winged arms in a show of aggression, "If you _had_ paid attention last week, you would have heard the Professor mention the Animagus Registry—"

"The what?" Harry blinked.

"It's a place you're supposed to go when you become an Animagus," another roar erupted from the Ironbelly, "I'd read it before, but when Professor McGonagall finished telling us, I looked them up again. There have only been seven registered Animagi this century, and Daniel Fenton is the youngest in over two hundred years – not including the Marauders, but of course they weren't on the list."

Harry grasped his golden egg tighter, "His Animagus is a _dragon?_ " he asked incredulously.

" _A_ _Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon?_ " Ron added, still gawping.

Hermione only smiled. Harry heard Sam cry from across the stadium, "Go, Danny!" and slowly he sank comfortably into his seat to enjoy the show as the Ukrainian Ironbelly bellowed once more.

ΔOl

 _A surprising amount of you guessed right for this chapter; which is slightly annoying, but I have to give you credit for your efforts._

 _For those curious for a better description of the Rwandan Razorback's appearance, I based it off a cross between an Armadillo Girdled Lizard, a Horned Lizard and a Porcupine; the end result is terrifying in my opinion._

 _A few of you were also confused as to why Danny was being booed by his own school. Well, much like Harry, Danny wasn't their first pick. Dash was, which made him and his friends jealous. And since he is the school's golden-boy, he has popularity and priority, resulting in the sheep effect; aka 'herd behaviour'._

 _The Ukrainian Ironbelly was actually the type of dragon that Harry and his friends meet in the seventh book, and I found the description of it suited Danny perfectly in this case. He probably had some sort of training from Dora the dragon once he had discovered his ability as an animagus._

 _In actuality though, I don't consider Danny's true animagus form to be a dragon. I think he'd be better suited as a frill-necked lizard or an orca, because they seem all cute and docile until you peeve them off, then they can be really scary._

 _I'd love to hear your thoughts on what animagus Danny would be in your opinion. And I'd really like to hear why too._

 _Updates are on Wednesday. Sorry this chapter is late, I had a rough week._


	13. The House Elf Liberation Front

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-One:** _ **The House Elf Liberation Front**_

Harry thoroughly enjoyed Divination class for the most part now that he was friends with Ron again. They were still doing star-charts and constellations, and made Professor Trelawney extremely pleased when they predicted their most gruesome deaths, but she quickly turned annoyed when they openly snorted at Lavender's proclamation that Uranus's alignment was a foreboding sign for those connected to the Canis Major constellation.

"I would _think_ , Mr. Potter," The Divination Professor had sniffed, her eyes narrowing behind her enormous glasses, "That you would take these warnings more severely, given your circumstances. Why, while I was doing my nightly viewings of the crystal ball yesterday evening, I saw something most ominous," her eyes purposefully flickered towards Harry.

Parvati leaned forward in her seat, "What was it, Professor?"

Trelawney watched them all closely before whispering mystically, " _Death,_ my dear."

All eyes in the room fell on a red-faced Harry, who hunched back over his chart to angrily scribble down Lavender's supposition. An obvious sound of disgust came from the far side of the room, making him lift his head.

Danny Fenton's friend, Sam, sat scowling in the corner looking quite out of place in her black-dyed uniform and sharp-cut bob, seated in one of the squashed, winged armchairs and surrounded by Trelawney's prized pink teacups; a thick, aged book open in her lap. Harry had forgotten she was even there. The seventh-year had arrived at the beginning of the lesson asking if she could sit in since Casper didn't qualify Divination as an actual subject.

Ron had then loudly stated that they didn't either and Trelawney had assigned him two extra constellations.

Trelawney blinked owlishly at the girl, "Is something the matter, er, Samantha, was it?"

The girl's lip curled, "It's Sam," she replied surly, "And I was just wondering why you'd willingly teach fourth graders about star-reading for personal gain. Everybody knows it's a dangerous art – that's why centaurs never speak of what they see. Star-reading should only be used for selfless reasons to benefit the earth, not people."

Trelawney looked taken aback before she placed a sympathetic hand on the older student's shoulder, "Oh, don't be silly, my child. It is obvious that you simply do not possess the Inner Eye of Divination – for if you did, you'd be able to see that the only true way to seek your path is through that of the stars. The reason the centaurs refuse to tell us is that they are merely spectators of the art, they don't have the _true_ ability."

Sam snapped her tomb shut and stood, making the Divination teacher jump back in a flurry of shawls and scarves, her many necklaces clinking together as the darkly dressed Casper stormed over, a polar opposite with her heavy boots and dramatical dark makeup. Harry heard Ron fail to hide a snort of laughter as Trelawney's shuffled behind one of the chintz chairs out of reach.

"Ma'am, my family has had the gift of foresight and divination for generations, and I know for a _fact_ that star-reading should never be used for oneself. Who are _you_ to tell me wrong?" Sam gritted out.

Trelawney looked indignant, her voice turning stern. Harry gave up trying to write down notes on his star-chart to stare at the two. Parvati and Lavender were blatantly gaping, "I shall have you know that I am a direct descendant of the great Cassandra Trelawney – one of the most renowned seers in all of Britain. I'm certain that your family could never be more gifted than mine," Trelawney finished proudly with a flick of her wrist.

Sam raised a mocking eyebrow, "Ever heard of Elphaba Manson? I'm her granddaughter."

Trelawney's face turned ashen and her bottom lip quivered before she rushed across the other side of the room, extinguishing her scented candles with a wave of her wand, "Class is over. Everyone out!" she hissed, "And remember, death always looms over us. Some closer than others."

Harry and Ron, having not even bothered unpacking most of their things for class, were one of the first to the ladder, climbing down only after Sam who had been closest to the trap door. At the foot of the ladder, Harry was surprised to find Danny Fenton leaning on a nearby wall.

Harry watched Sam storm moodily over to the tall boy, and he and Ron followed after the duo as they made their way down the spiral staircase together.

"You know, the whole 'death looms over us' thing might have been much more impressive if she hadn't used the exact same line at the end of last year," Harry said conversationally as he carelessly shoved his star-chart in his bag, "But if I'd dropped dead every time she told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle."

Ron mimicked him, his parchment almost tearing with the force he stuffed it in his own bag, "You'd be some sort of extra-concentrated ghost," he chortled.

A sudden yelp distracted the two as they looked down to see a wide-eyed Danny Fenton sunk knee-deep in the staircase, Sam's wild eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and Ron as her hands hovered over her friend.

Harry frowned, "Weird. I don't remember there being a trick step here."

"Me neither," Ron shrugged.

Danny spoke up, "A-a what?"

"You don't have those at Casper?" Harry asked. At their silence he explained, "They do it all the time here – some staircases move around on you, other steps make you stuck. Hold on, we'll get you out of there."

Ron looked disgruntled at the idea of helping, but reluctantly moved to the right of Danny, Harry on his other side, and looped an arm across their shoulders. A deep cold sunk into Harry's bones when he touched Danny, making him shiver, "Whoa, you're freezing!"

Danny shared a sharp look with Sam before he muttered, "Sorry."

Pulling Danny out wasn't as difficult as most trick-step victims. There wasn't any of the usual resistance that Harry found when stuck in a staircase. Danny seemed to simply slide out of it. He awkward rubbed the back of his head, "Well, thanks for that," Danny said, "I guess I'll be seeing you around."

With a small wave the two scurried off, but before the turned around the bend, Harry thought he heard Sam hiss, " _They weren't talking about you!_ "

The staircase was quiet as the couple disappeared from sight, "He's strange, that Fenton fellow," Ron wrinkled his nose.

"I think he's alright. Better than any of his other classmates," Harry defended.

Ron shrugged, "I guess. I just thought if I had the power to change into a sixty foot, fire-breathing dragon at will I'd have stopped that blond prat and his friends from picking on me ages ago. Or sat on Malfoy."

Harry laughed, "Maybe he just likes to keep a low-profile. I know I would."

Just then Parvati and Lavender rushed past the two, giggling to one another.

"Don't walk on that step!" Harry warned them, pointing at the one Danny had fallen into, "You'll get stuck."

"No we won't. There aren't any trick-stairs until the third landing down," Parvati said with an upturn of her nose. Obviously she was still annoyed at how they'd treated her favourite Professor. With that, she and Lavender purposefully stomped on the step and flounced off.

ΔOl

 _Fun fact: this entire story was inspired by just one sentence Ron said in this chapter:_

"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," said Ron, chortling, as they passed the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly.

 _And that is how this story was born._

 _I thought I'd rough out Sam's character a little more, she's kind of been a bit of a creepy lurker in the background a lot. Tucker's coming soon too, don't worry._

 _A lot of you sent in suggestions to different animagi – and many of them seemed to revolve around animals that can handle cooler temperatures, due to Danny's ice-core. I personally disagree with that as I don't feel that Danny's ice-powers represent him as a whole; it's just something he is capable of doing. Very cool concept though._

 _There were so many fantastic suggestions to what animals Danny could have been that I just have to list them down:_

 _Badger (adorably fitting – I honestly feel Vlad got it in one there); Dragon; Black Eagle; Arctic Owl; Ice Phoenix (I don't believe this is actually cannon; the closest I could find to an ice bird in mythology was a Native American legend of the Pomola, a bird that resides in the mountains near the Penobscot and Abenaki tribes); Threstal; Siberian Husky; and an Alpha Wolf (which I'm guessing is just a regular wolf in a dominating role, pack-wise, even though Danny's a bit of a loner)._

 _Someone did say that they didn't like Danny as an orca as whales are too fat, which made me laugh._

 _Updates are on Sunday. And you can't blame me this time for this chapter being a day late! There were 503 server issues. Ha!_

 _Review please and thank you._


	14. The Unexpected Task

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Two –** _ **The Unexpected Task**_

"Why do they have to move in packs?" Harry asked Ron, "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

"Tripping hex?" Ron offered unhelpfully as he watched a gaggle of third-years begin to twitter loudly as they rushed past Harry, glancing over their shoulders as they went, "Who're you gonna pick?"

Harry didn't answer. He already knew who he wanted to ask to the ball, but he was struggling to even work up the courage to walk past Cho Chang without falling over his feet. She was a year older than him and was very pretty, popular and a good Quidditch player. Ron seemed to know exactly what Harry was thinking.

"Look, you're not gonna have any trouble getting a date. You just went against a Hungarian Horntail and won, right? Pretty sure even some of the Slytherins will be lining up to be your partner," both Ron and Harry threw a face at that.

In an attempt to reconcile his behaviour towards Harry before the first task, Ron was making a valiant effort to withhold any bitterness in his voice, instead becoming one of Harry's leading supporters (next to Hermione) and blithely announce his distaste for the other contestants; mainly Danny Fenton for getting a better score than Harry, with Karkaroff reluctantly awarding the American boy a seven (Bagman, much to Harry's confusion, had awarded Danny a six).

Harry had suspicions that his friend's dislike for Danny was due to other reasons, however.

Ron turned out to be right about the girls, much to Harry's amazement. Not even before he'd stepped out of the Herbology greenhouses the next day a curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff that Harry had never spoken to before in his life asked him to go with the ball with her. Harry had been so shocked that he'd said no before he could even consider the matter. The girl had scurried off with a hurt expression, leaving Harry with the taunts of Ron, Seamus and Dean all throughout History of Magic. The following day, two more girls asked him, one a second-year and (to Harry's horror) a fifth-year with wrists as thick as his neck.

Ron tried to muffle his cackle as the girl stormed off, "She was quite good-looking," he admitted.

"She was a foot taller than me," Harry said, "Imagine what I'd look like dancing with her?"

Hermione's words about Krum kept coming back to him, "They only like him because he's famous!" Harry doubted that any of the girls that'd asked him would have wanted to go with him if he wasn't school champion, seeing as he'd barely exchanged words with any of them. Then he wondered if it'd bother him if Cho asked him.

Harry had to admit that he wasn't being hassled nearly as much as the other champions. With his newly earned respect from his classmates, Harry could pass through the school relatively unfazed, and regularly caught sight of Fleur flouncing by with a pleased smile set upon her face, her pale, glittery hair trailing behind her along as at least a dozen boys offering to carry her things. Krum, according to many of Hermione's disgruntled evening blusters, was constantly in the Library where a bunch of giggling girls (who Hermione vouched had never set foot in there before) were always sure to follow. Cedric had kept his burgeoning popularity and was constantly surrounded by his peers, though Harry was happy to find that the amount of _Support, Cedric Diggory!_ badges had diminished greatly, which he'd guessed was from Cedric asking them as thanks for the tip-off about the dragons.

Danny seemed to be struggling the most with his own sudden popularity; Harry had caught him more than once hiding out in an empty classroom, scribbling away on any scraps of spare parchment he could find with an albino great horned owl perched on his shoulder (he'd admitted with a blush he'd named the bird Spooky). When Harry had asked what he was doing, Danny had told him he was writing to his best friend, a squib called Tucker, whom was the only one outside his family that knew about him being a wizard.

Fred, George and Lee, despite being a year younger than the Casper champion, had quickly become close friends with Danny, and the four could often be seen having snowball fights on the grounds whenever Danny wasn't being followed and Sam had disappeared to wherever she went. Ron refused to join (especially after George jokingly claimed that Danny was bewitching the snow), leaving Harry unable to play either as his friend's newly-directed jealousy grew each time a Hogwarts, Beauxbaton or Durmstrang student approached the Casper to ask him to the ball.

"What's he got that we don't have, huh?" Ron grumbled one afternoon over lunch as they watched Danny softly turn down a flustered Alicia Spinnet with a friendly smile and a wave, "He's just as bad as Diggory. Prancing about with his fancy good looks and stupid accent."

Hermione, who had been sitting next to them, head stuck in a book, slammed it shut and looked over at them exasperatedly, "Really, Ron? Must you insult everyone you meet?"

"I do not!" Ron said, angrily stabbing his potato.

Hermione ignored him, "Well I think Daniel Fenton – sorry, I mean Danny – is a decidedly talented wizard. Not only is he capable of transforming into a highly obscure animagus _and_ is able to conjure a true patronus—"

"So what? Harry figured out how to do that last year," Ron butted in.

"—He's also brilliant in Defence Against the Dark Arts and is one of the first official members of S.P.E.W.," Hermione finished haughtily.

Harry's eyebrows rose to disappear under his hair, "How'd you get him to join?"

"And anyone else, for that manner?" Ron snorted.

"He's giving Samantha Manson some of my leaflets and badges for Hanukkah. Apparently, not _all_ pureblood witches and wizards think House-Elves should be restricted to the mentality that they are only meant to be slaves," Hermione threw Ron a vicious look that he ignored.

"So Danny bought one?" Harry leaned back in his seat to look over to where Danny and Sam were quietly eating lunch. A bright badge proudly spelling S.P.E.W. was gleaming off of Sam's black-dyed sweater-vest, seated next to one that had a large red cross running through a picture of a frog.

"Two, actually. One for himself as well. He suggested a name change, but the only one he could come up with was _Britain Against Reprehensible Feudalism_. I told him that I was taking things one step at a time at this point, however, and was focusing on the welfare of House-Elves before moving onto other magical creatures."

They watched as a pretty Beauxbaton girl tapped Danny on the shoulder, making Sam shoot a dark glare when Danny smiled up at the girl, who flushed in turn.

Ron huffed, "Bloody git."

ΔOl

 _I spent an inconsiderable amount of time thinking up that ridiculous acronym and in the end I'm still super proud of it despite how completely asinine it is._

 _Ron's found someone other than Harry to direct his jealousy towards, and we finally get mention of Tucker! …Who is a squib. Poor fellow, though I suppose he doesn't mind since he has no magic to interfere with his electronics. He must get so frustrated with Danny when he accidentally short-circuits them whenever they hang out._

 _A few of you were noticeably frustrated and confused over how we jumped straight into the next chapter instead of continuing on from the dragon fight, but I thought since we didn't get to witness any of the other champions' fights, why would we see Danny's? Overall it was irrelevant to the storyline. And who knows? Maybe when this story is all over I'll post the battle as a bonus chapter or something. A lot of you seem to think that Dash was the one that cast the Reducto spell too… maybe he did, maybe he didn't…_

 _Spooky, by the way, is from the original concept/earliest draft of Danny Phantom where Danny rode around on a motorcycle as a ghost hunter with his sidekick owl. Thought I would have a bit of fun and do a bit of a throwback there._

 _Don't forget to review! It makes me incredibly happy when you guys give feedback and offer your thoughts. I might not get the opportunity to respond to every review (as they would more often than not result in spoilers), but I do read every single one and try to answer them whenever I can._

 _Was I late again? Whoops. You should just be expectant by this point._


	15. The Yule Ball I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Three –** _ **The Yule Ball I**_

Despite the tremendous amount of homework Harry and the rest of the fourth years had been given over the holidays, he had found himself to be in no mood to do it and had instead spent the week following up to Christmas enjoying himself as much as possible along with everyone else. The amount of students choosing to stay in the castle over the winter break was a record-high, and Gryffindor Tower had almost seemed to have shrunk since its inhabitants were so much more rowdy. It didn't help that Fred and George's Canary Creams were being met with such great success, leaving people to suddenly burst into feathers throughout the day (mainly poor gullible Neville). All of the Gryffindors, however, quickly became wary of any food offered to them in fear that a Canary Cream would be sitting in its centre. George confided to Harry that he and Fred were planning to invite Danny over in the summer to work on some new products with the help of his parents.

"They're both brilliant, but completely mental," George said at lunch, snorting at the sight of a rather flustered Danny, who'd just been being struck in the forehead by a gaudy silver and green boomerang with a letter during the morning owl post arrivals, "They hunt ghosts for a living – not really sure why. Have been for years, even before that Phantom fellow or any of the others started popping up, Danny says."

Harry made a note to warn Nearly-Headless Nick to hide if the rest of the Fentons ever visited.

The snow was falling rather heavily on the castle now. The grounds starting to resemble a children's fairy tale with the Beauxbatons' pale blue carriage looking akin to a giant frosted pumpkin next to Hagrid's gingerbread hut. The portholes on the Durmstrang's ship were glazed in sheets of ice and the rigging powdered in snow. The house-elves had worked themselves into a holiday-themed frenzy, sending out plate after delicious plate of warm and hearty stews and savoury puddings, with Fleur Delacour being the only one able to find anything to complain about.

"Eet iz too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," Fleur told Danny, who was still rubbing his head as they made their way out of the Great Hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione were following behind them (Ron glaring envious daggers into Danny's back), "I will not be able to fit into my dress robes!"

"Oooh, what a travesty," Hermione spat as the two made their way into the entrance hall, Danny nodding along as she continued to complain, with a glazed look Harry realised that many of the boys wore whenever Fleur was around, "She really thinks highly of herself, doesn't she?"

"Hermione – who're you going to the ball with?" Ron asked.

He'd taken to springing the question on her throughout the week, hoping to catch her off-guard. Hermione simply shook her head with a frown, "I'm not telling you. You'll only make fun of me," she huffed.

A snort broke them from their conversation and Malfoy's slippery voice called out from behind them, "You're joking, Weasley? Somebody actually asked that thing to the ball? The long-molared Mudblood?"

Harry and Ron both curled their fists and went to move towards the Slytherin when Hermione raised her hand with a gleeful wave and called out, "Hello, Professor Moody!"

Malfoy looked like he'd been electrocuted as he jumped on the spot, swivelling around wildly. Harry, however, saw that the Defence Against the Arts teacher was still seated at the head table, poking suspiciously at his pudding before taking a swig from his trusty hipflask with a grimace.

Hermione smirked, "Twitchy little ferret, aren't you?" she said as she, Harry and Ron fell into raucous laughter, leaving the sputtering Slytherin at the bottom of the marble stairs as they headed up.

"Hermione…" Ron said as their laughter died down, "Your teeth… they look different."

"Well of course they do. You didn't actually expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me, did you?"

Ron shook his head, "No, they look different from before Malfoy hexed you. They look straighter and— and normal-sized."

Hermione threw the two of them a dazzling smile and Harry could see that what Ron said was true. It was a very different smile from what he was used to.

"Well… when I went to get them fixed by Madam Pomfrey, I ran into Danny and he said he knew the counter-curse – he'd been hit by the spell before, you see? And I was so embarrassed, I didn't want to risk anyone else seeing me and… well, he didn't know what my actual teeth looked like and I didn't exactly tell him when to stop… so I just let him carry on a bit. I made him awfully late though – he was heading off to the Weighing of the Wands – but he was very nice about it," she smiled even wider.

"Mum and dad won't be too happy, I've been trying to convince them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to get braces – they _are_ dentists after all. They just don't think that magic and teeth should— look! Pigwidgeon's back!"

Hermione pointed at the top of the staircase's banister where a tiny owl sat hooting happily with a letter tied to its leg. Sirius had replied.

ΔOl

 _I feel this is important to bring up, so please make an effort to read this before you click away; after calculating how many views this story has received over its short life, I've discovered that last month there was a median of over 500+ visits per chapter, and has recently risen to an average of 900+ visits, which is absolutely fantastic. However, in relation to how many views I've earned and how many written reviews I've recieved, I'm saddened to find I've only recieved 122 reviews out of 11,103 visits – that less than 1% of all the people who have read this story. More often than not it is the same lovely people exerting themselves to do so. Even if you don't review this story in particular, it's important to leave support and positive criticism for writers so they feel inspired through more than just a 'follow' or 'favourite' button, because it can be your simple words that could help make someone an international best-seller one day._

 _Now that that is out of the way, we can talk about the chapter:_

 _Danny still can't seem to help but drool over a pretty girl; Fleur being the prime example, but I can't really blame him. Pretty people are pretty, and I am incredibly shallow. We also discovered why Danny was actually late to the Weighing of the Wands and why Hermione is so friendly toward him, unlike the other champions, and pretty soon we will have the ball! What type of outfit/robes do you think Danny would wear?_

 _I'll see you on Sunday (or later because, along with being shallow, I lack any concept of time)._

 _Remember to review!_


	16. The Yule Ball II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Three –** _ **The Yule Ball II**_

Harry's fourth-year Christmas had to be one of his most memorable, with cheerful students noisily crowding the halls, exchanging gifts and laughing with friends, he'd never seen Hogwarts so lively and he'd caught sight of more than a few students snogging each other under the mistletoe before an out-of-breath and blustering Filch would come rushing over with a broom, spilling threats, Mrs. Norris right on his heels.

Harry and Ron spent most of the afternoon outside having an all-out snowball war with Fred and George, while Hermione sat on the sidelines. At five o'clock Hermione stood up and announced that she was heading inside to get ready.

"Already? What do you need three hours to get ready for?" Ron asked incredulously, and paid for his slip in concentration when a snowball tossed by Fred nailed him in the side of the head, "Who're you going with?" he called out in a final attempt, but Hermione just waved him off as she went up the stairs back inside the castle.

By seven o'clock, Harry felt like his arms were going to fall off and it was becoming hard to aim in the dark, so they called it a truce and headed back inside to get ready. When they reached the Tower, they found the Fat Lady with her friend Violet sitting in the frame, chocolate liqueur wrappers were spread all across the base.

"Lairy fights! That's right!" The two giggled maddeningly when they gave the password before swinging open to let them in.

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville all dressed rather quickly in their dormitory, all looking rather self-conscious, but none more than Ron, who, after catching sight of himself in the mirror, was walking around with a shocked and appalled expression on his face. There was no denying that the robes looked more like a dress than anything else. He'd at least succeeded on getting rid of all the lace around the cuffs and ruffle using a severing charm, but hadn't done a very neat job of it; leaving the edges looking torn and frayed and so, with a depressed nod of his head, the group made their way downstairs.

"I still can't work out how you got the two best-looking girls in the year," muttered Dean.

"Animal magnetism," Ron said in a suffering voice, pulling stray threads from his cuffs.

The Common Room was a lot brighter than Harry was used to. Instead of the usual regulatory black robes, the room was a flurry of colours as girls dashed about complimenting each other on their dresses, dragging their dates behind. Harry caught sight of Parvati waiting at the foot of the stairs. She looked very pretty dressed in bold pink robes with gold threaded through her dark plaited hair, bangles chimed softly on her wrists as she waved him over. He was glad to see she wasn't giggling.

"You – er – look nice," Harry said.

"Thanks, so do you," Parvati complimented in return before turning to Ron who had sullenly trudged after Harry down the stairs, "Padma will meet you outside the Great Hall."

"Right," Ron nodded distractedly, glancing about, "Where's Hermione?"

Parvati shrugged, "Ready to go down, Harry?"

"I suppose," said Harry, wishing he could stay in the Common Room. He caught sight of Fred winking at him as he passed by with Angelina on his hip, making his way to the portrait hole.

The Entrance Hall was just as crowded as the Common Room, with people milling about, waiting for it to be eight o'clock when the Great Hall's doors would be opened. Students from different houses and schools were scurrying about through the crowd trying to find their partners or meet up with friends. Parvati found her sister, Padma, and waved her over to meet Ron and Harry.

"Hi," said Padma, who was dressed opposite her sister in bright turquoise and gold, looking just as pretty. She didn't look too happy to be partnered with Ron though, indiscreetly throwing glances at his torn cuffs and neckline every so often.

"Hi," Ron said as if he was in pain, looking into the crowd when his eyes widened, "Oh, no…"

Bending his knees, Ron concealed himself behind Harry as Fleur Delacour glided past, dressed in silver-grey satin that made her look ethereal, accompanied by the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Roger Davies. When they'd disappeared, Ron stood up straight.

"Where's Hermione?" he iterated.

A group of Slytherins emerged from the direction of the dungeon Common Room, Malfoy leading the way clothed in a expensive-looking high-collared black velvet dress robe. Harry thought that he looked more ready to attend a funeral than a ball. Pansy Parkinson was dressed in pink frilly dress robes of her own, looking quite proud of herself as she gripped Malfoy's arm. Crab and Goyle were trailing after them, dressed in green to resemble two large moss-covered boulders. He was glad to see that they hadn't been able to find themselves dates.

The oak front doors opened, where everyone turned to watch as the Durmstrangs entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, a pretty girl that Harry didn't know was next to him. The Caspers arrived shortly after, making their way down the marble staircase where they had their temporary lodgings on the second floor. He caught sight of the muscular blond boy, who Harry had found out was called Dash, accompanying one of his classmates, a Latino girl he'd seen around who was almost as pretty as Fleur (and whom Harry had seen sending scathing looks to one another in the corridors more than once).

He was surprised to see Sam Manson making the trip downstairs by herself, dressed in less conventional dress robes of black and purple, looking rather stunning, where she met with a fair-haired Durmstrang boy with a narrow face dressed in white.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts when McGonagall called out, "Champions over here, please."

Parvati readjusted her bangles and with a smile, both she and Harry said, "See you in a minute," to Padma and Ron and made their way over, the chattering crowd parting to make way. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing robes of red tartan, was adjusting a rather ugly wreath of thistles that she had wrapped around the brim of her hat, told them to wait on the other side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were only allowed to enter once all of the other students had sat down.

Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies had positioned themselves closest to the doors, obviously Fleur's choice, not that Davies seemed to mind, he was too busy staring at her, as if amazed by himself being so lucky as to get Fleur as a date. Danny was next, with an athletic-looking girl Harry guessed was from Casper. She was dressed in robes of shocking orange that went nicely with her cocoa-coloured skin and curly black hair. Danny himself seemed to have decided to break tradition, looking rather impressive in a dark muggle suit and a powder blue tie. He looked uncomfortable though repeatedly tugging his collar, where his date would then promptly slap his arm and he'd stop for a few seconds before pulling at it again. Cedric and Cho were next in line, and Harry quickly averted his eyes so he wouldn't have to talk to them. His eyes instead fell on the girl standing next to Krum. His jaw dropped.

It was Hermione.

But she didn't look like the Hermione he knew at all. She had done something with her hair; instead of the wild tangled mess it usually was, it was now tied in a smooth intricate knot at the back of her head. She was wearing some floaty robes of periwinkle-blue and even seemed to be holding herself differently now, taller almost. Although that might have been due to her missing the extra tonne of books she constantly carted around on her back.

She was also smiling – rather nervously, it was true, but the change in her teeth was all the most noticeable now as she grinned delightedly at Danny and his date as he heard both of them compliment her; he couldn't understand how he hadn't noticed it before.

"Hi, Harry!" she turned to them and said breathlessly, "Hi, Parvati!"

Parvati was staring at Hermione in shock, her mouth hanging open unflatteringly. She wasn't the only one either, when the doors opened to let all of the other students in, more than one would freeze in surprise before bustling their way through and Krum's fan club had glared as they stalked past, before turning up their noses and storming through the doors. Pansy Parkinson had openly gaped at Hermione when she passed by and not even Malfoy could find a bad word to say about her. Ron, however, didn't even seem to notice her as he walked past.

Once everyone else was settled in the Great Hall, McGonagall came back out and told the champions and their partners to line up in pairs and follow her. The Hall erupted in applause when they walked through and headed up to a large round table at the head of the room. Nervously, Harry glanced around the room; the ceiling was covered in a jungle of mistletoe and ivy with the starry sky peeking through the gaps and garlands dropping down whimsically covered in silver glittering hoarfrost. The four tables had been removed and instead replaced with a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, able to sit up to a dozen people.

Harry concentrated on not tripping over his feet. Parvati seemed to be enjoying herself, waving at Lavender as they walked past and beaming at everybody, steering Harry so forcefully that he felt like a dog put on for show. He caught sight of Ron and Padma as they neared their table. Ron was watching Hermione with narrowed eyes. Sam Manson was wearing a similar expression on her face the table over as she stared down Danny and his date, her arm clasped around the oblivious Durmstrang student's. Padma just looked sulky.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the table, but Karkaroff stared down Krum and Hermione like he had a bitter taste in his mouth. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as the students; Professor Lancer was dressed in his usual attire and hadn't seemed to make any effort at all while Madame Maxime had changed out of her usual black satin for a flowing lavender gown. But Mr. Crouch, Harry suddenly realised, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley who was staring rather intently at him, gesturing to a seat next to him. Harry bit back a groan as he and Parvati made their way over.

ΔOl

 _Quite a few suggestions on what Danny should wear to the ball, green trim, icy-silver, all incredibly interesting to read and consider. But I decided to stick to my original decision and put Danny in his go-to, all occasions suit which I'm imaging as an Italian suit and not an American-cut. They are so much classier and far less boxy in shape – if you're looking to invest in a suit, ladies and (primarily) gentleman, get an Italian-cut, preferably tailored, since they're practically immortal and immensely more flattering. My brother owns a Versace and it was completely worth the money._

 _A couple of you tried to guess who Danny's date was, and I was surprised to not see any sign of Valerie in the reviews – all of you seemed to be rooting for Sam, probably because she was such a prominent character in comparison. But who could Sam's date be?_

 _I'll be posting a new chapter either tomorrow or Monday since this chapter (and the next) appears almost like filler and none of you ever seem satisfied with those – it's all important, I swear! Don't bully me!_


	17. The Yule Ball III

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Three –** _ **The Yule Ball III**_

Dancing wasn't as bad as it could have been, Harry thought, revolving slowly on the spot (Parvati was steering). He kept his eyes fixed over the heads of the people watching, and very soon many of them had come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the centre of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby – he could see Ginny wincing each time one of Neville's rather large feet trod on her own – and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime, with only the tip of his pointed hat reaching to tickle her chin. She did, however, move rather gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinastra, who was holding him at arm's-length, nervously eyeing his wooden leg.

"Nice socks, Potter," Moody grizzled as he passed, his magical eye staring through Harry's robes.

"Oh – yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me," said Harry, grinning.

Moody nodded in return when Danny Fenton swept past, apparently making a show out of trying to embarrass his date as he threw out a move Harry had once seen in an old movie when he'd been living with the Dursleys. He stopped rather suddenly when he neared the Professor, and both were scowling rather suspiciously at one another. Moody's electric blue eye followed Danny long after he was long pulled away by his date.

"He's so creepy!" Parvati whispered as Moody clunked off, "I don't think that eye of his should be allowed."

Harry heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe with relief. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once more (Harry heard Dash proclaim from off to the side that a band called 'Dumpty Humpty' were far better). Harry let go of Parvati at once.

"Let's sit down, shall we?"

"Oh – but – this is a really good one!" Parvati said as the Weird Sisters struck up a new song which was much faster.

"No, I don't like it," Harry lied, as he led her away from the dance floor, past Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury, and over to the table where Ron and Padma were sitting.

"How's it going?" Harry asked Ron, swiping a butterbeer off the table and opening it.

Ron didn't answer. He was glaring at Hermione and Krum, who were dancing nearby. Padma sat next to him, arms crossed, her foot jiggling in time to the music, staring wistfully out onto the floor. Every now and again she'd throw a disgruntled look at Ron, who would completely ignore her. Parvati seated herself on the other side of Harry, copying her sister, and within minutes was asked to dance by a boy from Beauxbatons.

"You don't mind, do you, Harry?" Parvati asked.

"What?" said Harry distractedly, watching Cho be spun around by Cedric.

"Oh, never mind," she snapped, and she snatched the now flustered boy's hand and marched off towards the crowd. When the song ended, she did not return.

Instead, Hermione ambled her way over and sat down in Parvati's empty chair. She was rather flushed from dancing, Harry noticed.

"Hi," greeted Harry. Ron didn't say anything.

"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand, "Viktor's just gone to get us some drinks."

Ron gave her a withering glare, "Viktor?" he said, "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Hermione looked baffled, "What's up with you?"

"If you don't know," Ron scowled darkly, "Then I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione looked at Harry, who shrugged and made to pointedly stare at one of the hanging ice-crystal chandeliers above.

"Ron, what—?"

"He's a Durmstrang!" Ron whirled on her, "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You— you're..." he seemed to grope for words as Hermione watched him, his face becoming progressively redder before he burst out, "Fraternising with the enemy, that's what you're doing! And not just him either, Fenton too!"

Harry leant back further into his chair, Hermione and Ron were beginning to attract looks. He saw the towering head of Danny look around confused at the sound of his name.

Hermione's mouth dropped.

"Don't be so utterly ridiculous, Ron!" she said after a moment, "The enemy! Honestly, who was the one who was all excited when they saw Viktor arrive? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory? And you have no right to talk down to Danny, he's done absolutely nothing wrong towards you!"

Ron chose to ignore this, "I s'pose Vicky asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?"

"Yes, _Viktor_ did," Hermione said shortly, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing brighter, "So what?"

"What happened – trying to get him to join spew too, were you?"

"No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he— he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!"

Hermione said this very quickly, and blushed so deeply that she matched Parvati's robes.

"Yeah, well that's his story," Ron said nastily.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione hotly replied.

"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student. He knows who you hang around with... he's just trying to get close to Harry – get inside information on him... I wouldn't be surprised if Fenton was doing the same – sidling up all friendly to you to figure out the best way to curse Harry while his back's turned—"

Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. Her voice quavered dangerously when she spoke, "Danny is my friend, Ron! And he's acting a lot more like one than you are at the moment! I'll have you know that neither he nor Viktor have asked me one single thing about Harry, not one—!"

Ron latched on to the twist in the conversation like a Niffler to gold.

"Then they're hoping you'll help them find out what the egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cosy little library sessions—"

"I've never helped them work out their eggs!" Hermione cried, "Never. How could you say something like that? I want Harry to win the tournament. Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?"

Harry didn't have a chance to open his mouth when Ron sneered, "You've got a funny way of showing it."

Hermione shook her head, her hair glimmering under the icicles, "This whole tournament is supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!"

"No it isn't!" shouted Ron, "It's about winning!"

More eyes were beginning to stare. Cedric and Cho had stopped dancing to watch them.

Harry quickly muttered, "Ron, I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum—"

But Ron ignored Harry too.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are," Said Ron, "Or better yet, why don't you spirit off with Danny too, while you're at it? Danny and Vicky, yeah, they sound like a great match for you!"

"Don't call them that!"

Hermione leapt out of Parvati's chair and stormed off across the dance floor, quickly disappearing in the swathe of brightly coloured cloths. Ron watched her go with an odd mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.

"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" Padma asked him.

"No," Ron answered shortly, still glaring after Hermione.

"Fine," snapped Padma, and she got up and went to join Parvati and the Beauxbaton boy, who conjured up one of his friends so fast that Harry could have sworn he had zoomed him there by a summoning charm.

"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" asked a voice.

Harry looked up to see that Krum had arrived at their table, clutching two butterbeers.

"No idea," said Ron mulishly, "Lost her, have you? Maybe she's hinting at something."

Krum was looking surly again.

"Vell, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks," he said, and he slouched off.

"Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?"

Percy had bustled over, his chest puffed out pompously with an extremely smug grin, "Excellent! That's the whole point, you know – international magical cooperation! Glad it's all paid off, you wouldn't believe the horror Mr. Crouch had to go through to get the Caspers over here – there were all sorts of transportation laws and regulations we had to go though. We were up to our ears in memos and contracts. An absolute nightmare."

Harry fought back a grimace of displeasure as Percy perched himself on Padma's seat, not noticing the deep scowl Ron was sporting. The top table was now empty; Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout, Ludo Bagman with Professor McGonagall; Madam Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students, who were darting out of the way to avoid getting knocked over, and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the song ended and everyone applauded, Harry saw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall's hand and make his way through the crowds, at which point Fred and George accosted him.

"What do they think they're doing, annoying senior Ministry members?" Percy hissed, watching Fred and George suspiciously, "No respect."

Ludo Bagman turned away from the twins and spotted Harry, waved, and came over to their table without a word in Fred or George's direction.

"I hope my brothers weren't bothering you, Mr. Bagman?" said Percy at once.

"What? Oh, not at all, not at all!" said Bagman, "No, they were just telling me a bit more about those fake wands of theirs. Wondering if I could advise them on the marketing. I've promised to put them in touch with a couple of contacts of mine at Zonko's Joke Shop..."

Percy didn't look thoroughly impressed with this, and Harry was prepared to bet that he would be rushing to tell Mrs. Weasley about this the moment he got home. Bagman opened his mouth to ask Harry something, but (much to his delight) Percy diverted him.

"How do you feel the tournament's going, Mr. Bagman? Our department's quite satisfied – the hitch with the Goblet of Fire—" Percy gave an overly patent glance at Harry from the corner of his eye, "Was a little unfortunate, of course, but it seems to have gone very smoothly since, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes," Bagman cheered, "It's been loads of fun. How's old Barty doing? Shame he couldn't come."

"Oh, I'm sure Mr. Crouch will be up and about in no time," said Percy self-importantly, "but in the meantime, I'm more than willing to take up the slack. Of course, it's not all attending balls— " he laughed airily, "Oh, no, I've had to deal with all sorts of things that have cropped up in his absence – you heard Ali Bashir was caught smuggling a consignment of flying carpets into the country? And then we've been fighting with the Americans to keep their... _revenants_ , I suppose you could say, in line. They've just been letting them float about wherever they please, and have already broken more than seventeen rules listed in the International Statute of Secrecy. Why, Mr. Crouch thinks—"

"Let's go for a walk," Ron muttered to Harry, "Get away from Percy..."

Pretending they wanted more drinks Harry and Ron left the table, edged around the dance floor and slipped away, out into the entrance hall.

ΔOl

 _Filler is killer._

 _Update is on Wednesday. Review, please. xx_


	18. The Yule Ball IV

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Three –** _ **The Yule Ball IV**_

The entrance hall was decorated just as grandly as the great hall, fairy lights fluttered daintily over the frosted rose gardens, making them twinkle and wink in Harry and Ron's direction as they made their way down the stairs. The two quickly found themselves surrounded by bushes, winding, ornament paths and large stone statues. Harry thought he caught the sound of a fountain nearby. People sat spattered across carved benches, giggling at the fairies dancing overhead. He and Ron set off along one of the lesser-filled paths, skirting around rosebushes, but they had only gone a short way when they heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"...don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as if he feared being overheard, "It's been getting clearer every day. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it—"

"Then flee," said Snape's voice unsympathetically, "Flee – I will make excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Karkaroff sounded on the verge of tears, "It's not that simple anymore, Severus! They say that they've sent out the Phantom – he's coming for us! There have been rumours – they say he's been spotted scouring the moors nearby—"

"The Phantom is none of our concern. He was sent to capture Sirius Black since the Aurors have been so incompetent in their own takedown of him," Snape seemed to hold a bit more poison than usual in his voice at that.

Snape and Karkaroff came round the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart with a flick of his wrist, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals would issue from many of the bushes, and dark shapes would scatter.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled at a girl who ran past him, "Ten from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her, "And what are you two doing?" he added, catching sight of Harry and Ron on the path ahead. Karkaroff, Harry saw, looked rather discomposed to see them standing there. He was nervously twisting his goatee with a jittering hand, his eyes flicking to Harry's forehead as he wound the hairs around his finger.

"We're walking," Ron rudely stated, pointing at his feet, "Not against the law, is it?"

"Keep walking then!" Snape snarled, and he brushed past them, his long black cape billowing out behind him. Karkaroff scurried after him, nervously tiptoeing around Harry as if he was about to bite him. Harry and Ron continued down the path.

"What's got Karkaroff all worried?" Ron muttered.

"And since when have he and Snape been on friendly terms?" asked Harry slowly, "You don't think they've actually sent Phantom after Sirius, do you?"

Ron shrugged unhelpfully, "Dunno. Dad says that the Aurors have been fuming lately though – he heard they'd even been considering pulling Mad-Eye back in before he got the Defence Against the Dark Arts job."

They had reached a large stone reindeer now, over which they could see the sparkling spurts of water glisten from the fountain. A shadowy outline sat visible on the edge, muttering at the water in the moonlight.

"...you just don't get it, do you?" Sam Manson growled.

A voice murmured something in reply, making Harry and Ron glance around curiously for it. There was no one else about.

"You were not just checking up on me!" Sam hissed venomously, "You were _spying_! I can't believe you would stoop so low!"

Harry and Ron froze. This didn't sound like the sort of scene they ought to walk in on, somehow… Harry looked around, back up the path, and saw Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies standing half-concealed in a rosebush nearby. He tapped Ron on the shoulder and jerked his head toward them, meaning that they could easily sneak off that way without being noticed (Fleur and Davies looked very busy to Harry), but Ron, eyes widening in horror at the sight of Fleur, shook his head vigorously, and pulled Harry deeper into the shadows behind the reindeer.

"I was making sure you weren't going to get hurt!" cried the ambiguous voice, "That guy's a complete sham— he's no good for you!"

Sam shoved herself to her feet, "Oh, and like you are? Sneaking around, trying to sabotage my date—! Ooh, just come out so I can see you already!" she began to grasp wildly at the air, as if she was hoping to latch onto the ambiguous voice.

A sigh escaped from the right of Ron as a patch of the sky flickered to reveal Danny Fenton in his suit, tie unknotted to lie around his neck. Harry had to clamp a hand across his mouth to stop from crying out. He glanced over at Ron to see his own jaw hanging open.

"Look, Sam, I'm sorry, but this is important. I'm getting some really bad vibes..."

Sam threw her hands in the air resignedly, "Not this again! Look, we've been watching Professor Grumpy—"

"Moody. Professor Moody," Danny corrected.

"—for weeks and we haven't found anything."

"Trust me, Sam, I know he's up to something. If I can just—"

"Hold up, you pulled me away from Gregor just to spout some half-formed ideas about some strange professor who's done nothing wrong? How _dare_ you!"

Danny reeled back a step with a look of surprise, before retaliating, "Hold on a second, what about you? You've done nothing but put Valerie down since I asked her to the ball – and now you act all high and mighty when all I've done is _worry_ about you! You told me you were boycotting this entire ball thing anyway! Something about 'forgoing the rules and standards of the social hierarchy in the name of the lesser people', remember?"

Sam huffed, turning away from Danny and crossing her arms, "Well I didn't expect you to turn around and ask your ex-girlfriend."

"I didn't exactly have a choice now, did I? You knew that it's mandatory for champions to have dates, and the first thing you did was tell me that you weren't going!" Danny scoffed, "Next thing I know, Mr. Light-and-Brooding comes along and the only thing you wanted to do was go to this stupid dance!"

"His name is Gregor, Danny! And he's charming and eloquent and the exact opposite of you—!"

"Oh, please! He's a total hack, Sam! The guy's not even European, he loses his accent half the time – and what's a Hungarian even doing at Durmstrang in the first place?" Danny ranted.

"At least Gregor _likes_ me. Which is much more than I can say for a lot of people in your life," Sam snapped back childishly.

A pained look painted itself across Danny's face, his jaw tightened and his hands balled up at his sides. Harry definitely didn't want to listen to this; he was certain that Danny would hate to be overheard in a situation like this (he certainly would have) – if it was possible he would have put his fingers in his ears and hummed loudly, but that wasn't really an option. Instead he tried to interest himself in a beetle crawling along the stone reindeer's back, but the beetle just wasn't interesting enough to block out Danny's whispered words.

"You know what? Forget it. Just... whatever. I'm going to go scout some more. I'll see you later... maybe," Just as quickly as he appeared, Danny vanished into thin air, leaving a rather remorseful Sam behind.

"Danny! Come back! I didn't mean it!" with a final curse up at the empty sky, she stormed away; her dramatically dark dress-robes fluttering behind her as she swatted giggling fairies out of her way and disappearing around a bend.

"How did he...?" Harry started, standing up to edge around the statue.

Ron tugged him back with a hiss, "Someone's coming!"

The rough timbre of Hagrid's voice met their ears. Harry ducked back down out of sight, "Momen' I saw yeh, I knew," he was saying, in an oddly husky voice that carried towards the fountain.

The beetle crept forward, antennas quivering.

ΔOl

 _This was one of my favourite chapters – it really starts to flesh out Danny's differentiating relationships between characters. Also ghost powers! Or plausibly an invisibility cloak, but most likely ghost powers._

 _I've always been on the fence with the character Sam even when I was younger. I found that she constantly attempted to play as Danny's moral grounding or conscience, even when he himself was uncomfortable or unhappy, and would put him down when he didn't act in a certain manner that she approved of. Still, after liking each other for so long and being such close friends, I can't simply ignore their rather cumbersome relationship… hence this big old mess._

 _I'm not really a fan of Valerie either since her reason for revenge seems rather petty overall. Who attempts to obliterate/murder someone because their dog accidentally made her dad lose his job? Seriously, the female characters in Danny Phantom were horrible._

 _Next update will be on Sunday, and the chapter after next will be the beginning of the Second Task! I'm terribly excited._

 _Don't forget to review. xx_


	19. Rita Skeeter's Scoop

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Four** _ **– Rita Skeeter's Scoop**_

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Hermione was very surprised that Harry was going to go.

"I just thought you would take advantage of the quiet," Hermione explained, "You know, to sort out the clue for the egg."

"Oh, I– I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now," Harry lied.

Hermione looked thoroughly pleased, "Have you really? Well done!"

Harry felt his insides knot in guilt, but he ignored them. He still had five weeks before the second task started, after all, and that was ages away... whereas if he went into Hogsmeade he might have the chance of running into Hagrid, whom he hadn't seen since Rita Skeeter had exposed his secret of being a half-giant, and hopefully persuade him to come back to teach.

He, Ron and Hermione left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds towards the gates. As they passed nearby a tree overhanging the Black Lake, they saw Danny Fenton sitting by the levee, looking glumly at his golden egg.

"Have you talked to him since the ball, Hermione?" Harry asked in curiosity.

Hermione shook her head, "He's been avoiding everyone since Skeeter released that big article on him and Samantha Manson."

"Fred and George said that they haven't been able to talk to him for weeks," Ron said a little too cheerily.

They stopped in their trek to the gates when a gang of Danny's schoolmates approached him, Dash in the lead. Before he could even react, Dash had snatched the golden egg from Danny's grasp and was holding it over his head derisively. Harry watched Danny half-heartedly reach for it and was quickly shoved down into the muddy embankment as the egg was then tossed lazily between the Caspers.

"Ooh! Those wretched, lowly—!" Hermione started, beginning to march over to the older boys.

Ron grabbed her arm, "Are you _mental_? They're twice the size of us!" Hermione looked like she wanted to argue and he added, "He's not one of your precious house-elves, he can take care of himself!"

The group of boys seemed to get bored at Danny's lack of retaliation, and the egg was returned to Dash's arms, where he twisted his body back and (with what Harry had to admire what was perfect form for a chaser) flung it out into the depths of the Black Lake, revelling in his friends' cackles at the despondent Danny.

They wandered off shortly after that, with a few choice words in their peer's direction, they heaved their way up the slippery embankment and out of sight. Danny didn't seem to hesitate. Whipping off his shirt, Harry found that the Casper student was very skinny indeed, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked as he swiftly climbed out onto the farthest branch of the overhanging tree, stretched his arms out, and dived, right into the lake.

"He's mad!" cried Harry, as Danny's dark head bobbed out into the middle of the lake to quickly disappear again, "It must be freezing, it's January!"

"Well how else is he supposed to get his egg back? It's the only way really," Hermione frowned in the direction the other Caspers had left.

"Yeah, but there's still the giant squid," said Ron. He didn't sound anxious – if anything, he sounded hopeful.

Hermione noticed his tone and turned her scowl on him.

"He's really nice, you know," she said, "He's not at all like you'd think, coming from Casper. Ginny told me that he likes it much better here. Viktor said he does too."

Ron said nothing. He hadn't mentioned Viktor Krum since the ball, but Harry had found a miniature arm under his bed on Boxing Day, which had looked very much as though it had been snapped off a small model figure wearing Bulgarian Quidditch robes.

Harry kept his eyes skinned for a sign of Hagrid all the way down the slushy High Street, and suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks once he had ascertained that Hagrid was not in any of the shops.

The pub was as crowded as ever, but one quick look around at all the tables told Harry that Hagrid wasn't there. Heart sinking, he went up to the bar with Ron and Hermione, ordered three butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta, and thought gloomily that he might just as well have joined Danny by the lake and listened to the egg wail all afternoon.

"Doesn't he ever go into the office?" Hermione said suddenly, "Look!"

She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman had his head bent low as he whispered quickly to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and were looking rather menacing.

It was indeed odd, Harry though, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Tetrawizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. Bagman looked rather stressed in the mirror, he kept giving side glances whenever he was given the chance and was struggling to maintain eye-contact with the disgruntled goblins. Harry thought he looked nearly as stressed as when he'd seen him at the Quidditch World Cup in the forest, right before the Dark Mark had appeared. It was just his luck that as Harry was about to bend his head, Bagman caught sight of him in the same mirror and stood up.

"In a moment, in a moment!" Harry heard him say brusquely to the goblins, who glared at him from over their pints, and rushed over to Harry, his boyish grin back in place.

"Harry!" he cheered, "How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"

"Fine, thanks," replied Harry.

"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?" said Bagman eagerly, "Couldn't give us a moment, you two, could you?"

"Er– okay," said Ron, and he and Hermione went off to find a table.

Bagman led Harry along the bar to the end furthest from Madam Rosmerta and her other patrons.

"Well, I just thought I'd congratulate you again on your splendid performance against that Horntail, Harry," said Bagman, "Really superb."

"Thanks," said Harry shortly, but he knew that couldn't be all Bagman wanted to say, because he could have congratulated him in front of his friends.

Bagman didn't seem in a rush to say what he wanted, though. Harry saw him glance into the mirror over the bar again at the goblins, who were watching them with such fierce intensity in their dark, slanting eyes Harry felt like they were trying to see right through him.

"Absolute nightmare," Bagman muttered to Harry, noticing he was watching the goblins too, "Their English isn't very good... it's like being back with all the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup, but at least they used sign language another human could recognise. This lot keep gabbling in Gobbledegook... and I only know one word of Gobbledegook. Kadvrok. It means 'ghost'. I don't like to use it in case they think I'm threatening them."

He gave a sort of forced laugh.

"What do they want?" Harry asked seriously, noticing the way the goblins eyes narrowed even further at Bagman's amusement.

"Er– well..." said Bagman, looking suddenly nervous, "They... er... they're looking for Barty Crouch."

"Why are they looking for him here?" questioned Harry, "He's in London, at the Ministry, isn't he?"

"Well, to be truthful, I haven't the foggiest where he's gone," Bagman looked apprehensive, as if he wasn't certain that he should be sharing this with Harry, before continuing slowly, "He's sort of... stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Percy, his assistant, says he's ill. Apparently he's just been sending instructions by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone, Harry? Because Rita Skeeter's still poking around everywhere she can. I'm betting she's been waiting to work Barty's illness up into the next Bertha Jorkins case."

"Have you heard anything about Bertha Jorkins?" Harry asked.

"No," Bagman admitted, strained, "I've got people looking, of course..." (about time, thought Harry), "And it's all very strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. And then she left the cousin's house to go south to see an aunt... but between there, she seemed to vanish without a trace. Not a clue if I knew where she's got to... she doesn't seem the type to elope, for instance..." Bagman seemed almost to be talking to himself now, warbling on, "They're thinking of taking that Phantom fellow off the Black case to try and ravel this one up, but that's still up in the air because of all the legalities. Creature rights or some sort of thing. It'd be far less of a mess if he did help, though."

Bagman seemed to snap out of his daze, "But what are we talking about? Goblins, Phantoms and Bertha Jorkins, no. What I really wanted to ask you..." he whispered, making Harry have to lean in close to hear what he was saying, "How're you going with your golden egg?"

"Er... not bad," Harry said untruthfully.

Bagman seemed to catch the lie.

"Listen, Harry," he continued to whisper, "I feel very bad about all this... you were thrown into this tournament, you didn't volunteer for it... and if..." Harry was straining to hear his voice now, "If I can help at all... prod you in the right direction... I've taken a liking to you... the way you got past that dragon... well, just say the word."

Harry stared up into Bagman's round, rosy face and his wide, baby-blue eyes.

"We're supposed to work out the clues alone, aren't we?" he said, careful to keep his voice casual and not sound as though he was accusing the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules.

"Well… well, yes," Bagman impatiently said, "but – come on, Harry – we all want a Hogwarts victory, don't we?"

"Have you offered Cedric help?" Harry asked.

The smallest of frowns creased Bagman's smooth face, "No, I haven't," he said, "I— well, like I say, I've taken a liking to you. Just thought I'd offer… After all, I've already had to help you out with the Fenton boy..."

Harry sucked his teeth, "What do you mean 'help me out'? Is that why you only gave Danny a six? You rigged it?" his voice was progressively becoming louder as his temper rose.

Bagman glanced around nervously, making soft hushing sounds as he waved his hands distressed, "I wouldn't say 'rigged', Harry. It's just, he's a much older and experienced student to you, he deserved to be judged harder."

"You gave Krum an eight," Harry retorted.

Bagman rolled his eyes, "Well, to be fair, the fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty with that one."

"Well, thanks," Harry forced a smile, "but I think I'm nearly there with the egg… couple more days should crack it."

He wasn't entirely sure why he was refusing Bagman's help, except that Bagman was almost a stranger to him (and one who was apparently not above extortion), and accepting his assistance would feel somehow much more like cheating than asking advice from Ron, Hermione, or Sirius.

Bagman looked almost affronted, but couldn't say much more as Fred and George turned up at that point.

"Hello, Mr. Bagman," said Fred brightly, "Can we buy you a drink?"

"Er… no," said Bagman, with a last despondent glance at Harry, "No, thank you, boys…"

Fred and George looked quite as disappointed as Bagman, who was surveying Harry as though he had told him his pet kneazle had died.

"Well, I must dash," he stammered out, "Nice seeing you all. Good luck, Harry."

He hurried out of the pub, the goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him without a backwards glance.

ΔOl

 _And that's how Danny figured out the egg's clue. Thanks, Dash._

 _I lied. The next two chapters won't be the Second Task, but I will say that they are some of my favourites._

 _A lot of people really enjoyed this chapter, and were asking about Danny as Phantom, which all I have to say to that is that I am really excited to see your reactions later on._

 _An anonymous reviewer who simply labelled himself as 'Matt' asked if I forgot how explosive teenage girls could be (relating them to dynamite) after I commented about how poorly developed most of the girls were in the Danny Phantom series, of which I can say no, I haven't forgotten, considering I am of said explosive gender._

 _Guys can be just as crazy in my opinion – testosterone does strange things to the mind._

 _Review! Or I'll go explosive on you, haha! xx_


	20. The Egg and the Eye I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Five –** _ **The Egg and the Eye**_

Harry shoved back the sopping bits of hair that had plastered themselves to his forehead as he pulled out the Marauder's Map to check if the coast was clear, golden egg tucked securely under his other arm. He heard Moaning Myrtle give him a final solemn goodbye as he eased the door of the prefect's bathroom shut, wincing at the soft clang of it closing. Harry glanced down at the map and was happy to note that the dots belonging to Filch and Mrs. Norris were safely tucked in their office... nothing else seemed to be moving (apart from Peeves, though he was bouncing around on the second floor in the rooms where the Caspers were staying. Harry could only assume he was causing a quite satisfying amount of havoc).

Harry had taken his first step toward Gryffindor Tower when something caught his eye... something distinctly odd.

Peeves was not the only thing moving. A smudge of ink had appeared on the map, zipping through the corridor in the bottom left-hand corner. The dungeons. Harry's eyes swivelled to follow it; it was much too fast for a human or even an owl. It weaved its way through classrooms, carefully scouring each room before catapulting itself into the next before Harry could blink.

The ink was faint and barely legible, like someone had tried to scrub the name right off the map. Harry watched as the stain swept its way through the next room, heading deeper into the dungeons towards Snape's office where Harry noticed a second dot standing in the middle of the room.

But the dot wasn't labelled 'Severus Snape'... it was Bartemius Crouch. Harry stared at the name. Mr. Crouch was supposed to be too ill to go to work or come to the Yule Ball – so what was he doing, sneaking into Hogwarts at one o'clock in the morning? He watched closely as Crouch moved around and around the room, pausing here and there...

Harry hesitated, thinking... until his curiosity got the better of him. He turned and set off in the opposite direction towards the nearest staircase. He was going to see what Crouch was up to and whatever that strange mark was.

Harry snuck down the stairs as quietly as possible, though the faces in some of the portraits still turned curiously at the squeak of a floorboard, the rustle of his pyjamas. He crept down the corridor below, carefully pushing aside a tapestry about halfway along, and proceeded down a narrower hidden staircase, a shortcut that would take him straight down two floors. He kept glancing at the map, wondering... if he squinted and tilted his head to the left, he swore he could make out the name 'Danny Phantom'.

And then, halfway down the staircase, not thinking about what he was doing, not concentrating on anything but the peculiar behaviour of Mr. Crouch and the possible appearance of the elusive Phantom (what would he be doing in Hogwarts anyway? Ron's dad said that the Aurors had had a lead somewhere in Wales), Harry's leg suddenly sank right through the trick step Neville always forgot to jump. He gave an ungainly wobble, and the golden egg, still damp from the bath, slipped from under his arm. He lurched forward to catch it, but too late; the egg fell down the long staircase with a bang as loud as a bass drum on every step – the Invisibility Cloak slipped – Harry snatched at it, and the Marauder's Map fluttered out of his hand and slid down the stairs, where, sunk in the step to above his knee, he couldn't reach it.

The golden egg clattered the rest of its way down the staircase and through the tapestry at the bottom of the stairs and burst open with a mighty wail to the corridor below, and, Harry surmised, the rest of the castle. Harry whipped out his wand and stretched as far as he could to touch the Marauder's Map in hopes to wipe it blank, but it was too far away to reach—

Yanking the cloak back over himself Harry straightened up, listening hard with his eyes screwed up in fear... and, almost immediately—

"PEEVES!"

It was the unmistakable hunting cry of Filch the caretaker. Harry could hear his rapid, shuffling footsteps coming nearer and nearer, his wheezy voice raised in fury.

"What's this racket? Wake up the whole castle, would you? I'll have you, Peeves, I'll have you, you'll... what's this?"

Filch's footsteps halted, there was a sharp clink of metal on metal and the wailing stopped as quickly as it started – Filch had picked up the egg and shut it. Harry stood very still, feeling rather gauche with his lower leg still jammed tightly in the magical step, only able to listen. Any moment now, Filch was going to pull aside the tapestry, expecting to see Peeves... and there would be no Peeves... but if he came up the stairs, he would spot the Marauder's Map... and Invisibility Cloak or not, the map would show 'Harry Potter' standing exactly where he was.

Harry snuck a glance at said map watching Filch shuffle excitedly in a circle, Mrs. Norris had quickly crept up next to him.

"Egg?" Filch stated obtusely by the foot of the stairs, "My sweet!" he crowed to his cat, "This is a Tetrawizard clue! This belongs to a school champion!"

Harry felt sick; his heart was hammering very fast—

"PEEVES!" Filch roared gleefully, "You've been stealing!"

The tapestry was nearly ripped from its rod in Filch's enthusiasm, and Harry saw his horrid, pouchy face and bulging pale eyes staring into the dark and (to Filch) deserted staircase.

"Hiding, are you?" he hissed softly, "I'm coming for you, Peeves... You've gone and stolen a Tetrawizard clue, Peeves... Dumbledore'll have you out of here for this, you filthy, pilfering poltergeist..."

Filch began to stretch his bowed legs up the stairs, his scrawny dust-coloured cat on his heels. Mrs. Norris's lamp-like eyes, so very like her master's, were fixed unblinkingly on Harry. He had on occasion before now wondered whether the Invisibility Cloak worked on cats... Sick with apprehension, he watched Filch draw nearer and nearer in his old flannel dressing gown – he tried desperately to tug his leg free, but only succeeded in sinking it further a few more inches – any second now, Filch was going to walk right into him or spot the map—

The faint splotch of ink drew Harry's eyes to the map. Harry watched as it flew through the castle, shifting right through floors as it raced through the castle at a speed he struggled to follow, and came to an abrupt stop... right behind him.

"What the—?" a voice called out from behind Harry. There, blinking owlishly in the light of the lantern Filch held, stood Danny Fenton, dressed in a muggle pair of jeans and shirt at the top of the staircase, glancing around the narrow way, fists raised as if he'd been expecting to be confronted by a banshee instead of Hogwarts' crabby old caretaker and his cat.

"Who're you?" Filch grunted out, "You should be in bed, it's after curfew! I'll have you hanging in thumbscrews for this!"

"Er..." Danny said intelligently, "I was looking for my..." Harry watched Danny glance around before his eyes fell on what Filch was carrying, "My egg! Y-yeah, I was looking for my egg!"

Filch glanced down at the egg before his beady eyes swivelled back to the boy, "This is yours?" he asked, disgruntled.

"Yes?" in the faint light it looked like Danny was grimacing more than smiling, "It disappeared a while back – but you found it! So, it's all good now. I have my egg and you have the ever-rewarding peace of mind knowing that you returned it to its rightful owner, so now we can all just go back to whatever we were doing and forget that this ever happened!" the grimace stretched so far on Danny's face that it looked painful.

"Did Peeves take it from you, boy?"

"Peeves? Er... sure!" Danny's straight teeth gleaned in the low lamp-light.

Filch peered up at Danny, lifting his lantern higher as he shuffled up another two steps, Harry held his breath as the musty smell of the caretaker wafted into his nose, gripping his Invisibility Cloak tighter around himself as he stared nervously down at the map. The ink-mark had vanished, but Harry could clearly see the name 'Danny Fenton' standing not four steps behind him in sharp, black ink.

"I know you," Filch finally trawled out, "You're one of those wretched Caspers, aren't you? Their precious 'champion'. Never liked your lot; always scampering about after hours, acting vulgar – no respect for rules! You think you're untouchable, don't you?"

Danny seemed to choke on a laugh like Filch had made a joke, "Only sometimes," he said smarmily.

Filch bristled and hissed, stalking up the stairs, "Well, Hogwarts student or not, you should know the rules! You are going to be sorry that you—!"

"Filch? What's going on?"

Filch stopped in his ascent, only a few steps below Harry and turned. At the foot of the stairs stood the only person who could make Harry's situation worse: Snape. He was wearing a long grey nightshirt and he looked livid.

"It's a Casper, Professor," Filched whispered malevolently, "He says his egg went missing and he went looking for it. Claims that Peeves stole it."

Snape climbed up the stairs quickly and stopped beside Filch. Harry gritted his teeth, convinced his loudly thumping heart was going to distract Snape's black, piercing glower from Danny to him any second...

"Peeves?" said Snape softly, staring at the egg in Filch's hands, "but Peeves couldn't get into my office..."

"The egg was in your office, Professor?"

"Of course not," Snape snapped, "I heard banging and wailing—"

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg—"

"—I was coming to investigate—"

"—Well, this Casper brute—"

"—and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"

"But Peeves couldn't—!"

"I know he couldn't, Filch!" Snape snapped, "I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break!" he glanced back at the corridor below, "I want you to come and help me search for the intruder, Filch."

"I—yes, Professor— but—!"

A soft scuffle and a curse burned Harry's ears. He carefully turned, making sure no limbs were visible, to see Danny had attempted to use the distraction between the two staff members to sneak off unsuccessfully.

Snape glared up and noticed Danny for the first time, his pitch-black eyes narrowing into sharp slivers, " _You!_ "

Danny looked taken aback, half pressed in shadows, and squeaked out, "Me?"

"Sneaking around after hours, only someone of _your kind_ would be so dense to break into my—"

"My kind?" Danny cried indignantly, "What's that supposed to mean? I didn't break into your stupid storage cupboards! Why would I even want to—?"

" _Don't lie to me boy!"_

"I'm not lying!"

 _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._

ΔOl

 _Who could that be?_

 _Finally some actual sort-of-but-not-really interaction with Danny! Have any of you noticed that Harry has yet to have an actual conversation with him? Everything Harry hears is either second-hand or viewed from a distance._

 _A few of you have asked why Ron despises Danny so much, so instead of writing individual review responses I thought I would just place it here:_

 _Firstly, Danny is somebody that Ron doesn't personally know, so obviously that makes him an easy target for misplaced aggression. Let's not forget that the guy is darn good at making friends despite being one of the least popular kids at Casper Magical Seminary; he's friends with Ron's older brothers, got Hermione's loyalty and friendship, and, since pulling his name out of the cup, has become instantly more famous and popular than Ron could ever hope to be. Oh, and he's also rather handsome and talented, with the ability to transform into an animagus, cast a patronus AND talk to Fleur Delacour without completely embarrassing himself (most of the time)._

 _To sum it up, Ronald Bilius Weasley, like any petty fourteen year old would be, is jealous. Tada!_

 _Also someone asked why Dash wasn't more afraid of Danny now that he knows he's a dragon. There's a simple answer to that too; he's stupid. Tada!_

 _After next chapter we will be moving right along to the Second Task! But enjoy these, they reveal a rather interesting amount of information for later on…_

 _Review! xx_


	21. The Egg and the Eye II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Five –** _ **The Egg and the Eye II**_

Snape's jaw clicked shut very abruptly. He and Filch both looked down at the foot of the stairs and Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody limp into sight through the narrow gap between their heads. Moody was wearing his old travelling cloak over his nightshirt and leaning on his staff as usual.

"Pyjama party, is it?" he growled up the stairs, "Looks like Fenton didn't get the invite," Danny huffed haughtily at him.

"Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor," said Filch at once, "I found a champion's egg – and then Professor Snape discovered that this boy had broken into his off—"

"Shut up!" Snape hissed to Filch, at the same time Danny cried, "I did not!"

Moody took a step closer to the foot of the stairs. Harry saw Moody's magical eye travel over Snape, up to Danny and then back down to, unmistakeably, himself.

Harry's heart gave a terrible jolt. Moody could see through Invisibility Cloaks... he alone could see the full strangeness of the scene: Snape in his nightshirt, Filch clutching the egg, Danny dressed in full-muggle attire looking ready to bolt at the first moment, and he, Harry, trapped in the stairs just below. Moody's lopsided gash of a mouth opened in surprise. For a few seconds, he and Harry stared straight into each other's eyes. Then, Moody closed his mouth and turned his blue eye upon Snape again.

"Did I hear that correctly, Snape?" he asked slowly, "Someone broke into your office?"

"It is of no importance anymore," said Snape coldly.

"On the contrary," growled Moody, "It is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay," Snape glared up at Danny. Harry could see a vein flickering horribly on Snape's greasy temple, he looked like he was constraining himself very hard in front of Moody, "It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard... students attempting to cheat their way through the Tetrawizard tournament, no doubt."

"I haven't been anywhere near your precious cupboards! I don't even have my wand on me!" Danny gritted out, stamping a step closer to Harry. He could now feel the cold chill that followed the boy constantly as it sunk into his bones, making him shiver – in actual coldness or fear of being caught, Harry wasn't sure.

Moody ignored Danny entirely, both eyes fixed on Snape, "Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" said Moody, "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

Snape's sallow face turn a nasty brick colour, the vein in his temple threatening to burst.

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody," he said in a soft and dangerous voice, "As you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself."

Moody's face twisted into a smile, "Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye—"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," Snape retorted through clenched teeth, "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!"

Moody didn't back down, "Course Dumbledore trusts you, he's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me, I say there are spots that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"

Snape suddenly did something very strange. He seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand as though it was going to try and jump right out of its socket.

Moody laughed, "Get back to bed, Snape."

"You don't have authority to send me anywhere!" Snape hissed, shoving away his arm as though angry with himself, "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!"

"Prowl away," Moody offered, his voice full of menace, "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor sometime..."

Snape looked far from mollified at the threat as he twisted away, but just as he had reached the tapestry, Danny's voice called out, "Hey, Teach', I think you dropped something!"

With a stab of horror Harry watched Danny point at the Marauder's Map, still lying on the staircase six steps below him. As Snape and Filch both turned to look at it, Harry threw caution to the winds; he raised his arms under the cloak and waved furiously at Moody to attract his attention, mouthing, "It's mine! Mine!"

Snape had reached out for it, a horrible expression of dawning comprehension on his face—

"Accio Parchment!"

The map flew up into the air, slipped through Snape's outstretched fingers, and soared down the stairs into Moody's hand.

"Sorry about that," Moody said calmly, "It's mine – must've dropped it earlier..."

But Snape's black eyes were darting from the egg in Filch's arms to the map in Moody's hand, and Harry could tell he was putting two and two together, as only Snape could...

"Potter," he murmured.

"What's that?" said Moody calmly, folding up the map and pocketing it.

"Potter!" Snape snarled, and he actually turned his head and stared right at the place where Harry was, as though he could suddenly see him, "That egg is Potter's, not Fenton's! That piece of parchment belongs to Potter. I have seen it before, I recognise it! Potter is here! Potter, in his Invisibility Cloak!"

"So… he's got a few screws loose, right?" Harry heard Danny ask rhetorically, seemingly giving up all pretence that the egg ever belonged to him.

Snape stretched out his hands like a blind man and began to move up the stairs; Harry could have sworn his over-large nostrils were flared, trying to sniff Harry out – trapped, Harry leaned backwards, trying to avoid Snape's fingertips, but any moment now—

"There's nothing there, Snape!" barked Moody, "But I'll be happy to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter!"

"Meaning what?" Snape turned again to look at Moody, his hands still outstretched, inches from Harry's chest.

"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who has got it in for that boy!" said Moody, limping nearer still to the foot of the stairs, "And so am I, Snape... very interested..."

The torchlight flickered across his mangled face, so that the scars and the chunk missing from his nose, looked deeper and darker than ever.

Snape was looking down at Moody, and Harry couldn't see the expression on his face. For a moment, nobody moved or said anything. Then Snape slowly lowered his hands.

"I merely thought," Snape sniffed in a voice of forced calm, "That if Potter was wandering around after hours again... it's an unfortunate habit of his... he should be stopped. For—for his own safety."

"Ah, I see," Moody replied with a false sense of cheeriness, "Got Potter's best interests at heart, have you?"

There was a pause. Snape and Moody were still staring at each other, Mrs. Norris gave a loud meow, still peering around Filch's legs, looking for the source of Harry's bubble-bath smell.

"I think I will go back to bed," Snape said diplomatically.

"Best idea you've had all night," Moody nodded, "Now Filch, if you'll just give me that egg—"

"No!" said Filch, clutching the egg like it was his childhood security blanket and stabbed a finger up the stairs, "Professor Moody, this is evidence of that wretched boy's deception and lies! Obviously he's been stealing from the other champions in an attempt to sabotage them!"

" _What?"_ squawked Danny, "You're crazy! How would I even—"

"I'm certain the champion who's missing their egg is worried sick about it," Moody held a hand out, "Hand it over, now. I'll deal with Fenton."

Snape didn't stick around to Filch's bemoaning, sweeping down the stairs as dramatically as he could in a nightshirt, he passed Moody without another word. Filch made a chirruping noise to Mrs. Norris, who stared blankly at Harry for a few more seconds before turning and following her master. Still breathing very fast, Harry heard Snape skulking away down the corridor; Filch handed Moody the egg with a look of longing that a starving man gives a Christmas feast and disappeared from the staircase too, muttering to Mrs. Norris, "Never mind, my sweet... We'll see Dumbledore in the morning... tell them what those wretched Caspers are up to..."

A door slammed. Harry was left staring down at Moody, but he didn't seem to be focusing on him, rather right over his head.

"You'll deal with me, will you?" Harry jumped in fright when Danny spoke. He thought the boy had left after Filch's dismissal.

Moody didn't react outwardly, but his voice was as cold as when he spoke to Snape, "With an attitude like that, I'd watch where you step, boy."

Danny let out a raucous laugh, "Was that a threat?"

"A warning," Moody said.

Harry watched nervously as Danny hissed through his teeth and stalked down the narrow staircase toward Harry, "I don't know what your angle is yet, but don't think that— Oof!"

Danny's knee collided with the small of Harry's back, sending Harry careening forward. He felt the invisibility cloak slip off him into a rumpled silvery heap.

Danny's face turned from belligerent to bemused as her stared down at him, "Harry?"

"Oh! I— er… hello."

ΔOl

 _As the next chapter is slightly filler, I will be posting it on Tuesday with the next chapter posted on Wednesday. Hopefully that will appease you all._

 _Quite a few of you thought that Danny could see Harry. I don't know why he would. It's not like he has ever had that power before, but there were some really good reasoning and suppositions behind it…_

 _See you on Tuesday. Review! xx_


	22. The Egg and the Eye III

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Five –** _ **The Egg and the Eye III**_

A door slammed. Harry was left staring between a frowning Danny and an expectant Moody who played with his staff at the bottommost stair before starting to climb laboriously toward the steps just below.

Slowly, Danny reached out and snatched at the cloak, pulling it off him and acting rather shocked at the sight of his hand disappearing underneath it. He quickly snatch his hand back, the cloak falling to the ground in a swaddling of evanescent silver. Harry grinned meekly at him when Moody spoke up.

"Close shave, Potter. Not close enough, though. Seems Fenton's righteous stumblings have finally pointed him in the right direction."

Danny coloured an interesting shade of purple as he sputtered, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Another shiver ran down Harry's spine as that mysterious cold that always followed fluttered the fringe of his hair, "I don't know what you're talking about," Danny finally muttered.

Moody's face curled into a sneer, "And I suppose that your egg really did go missing?"

"As much as that old bit of parchment being yours," Danny retorted.

Moody's real eye glanced down at the map, his magical one still fixed on the Casper who huffed under the scrutiny, "What is this thing, Potter?"

"Map of Hogwarts," Harry said shortly, hoping either Moody or Danny were going to pull him out of the staircase soon; his leg was really beginning to hurt.

"Merlin's beard," Moody whispered, staring at the map, "This… this is some map, Potter!"

Danny seemed confused by it, staring at the back of the parchment with a pensive look.

"Yeah, it's… quite useful," Harry said. His eyes were starting to water from the pain. He tugged on Danny's jeans, "Er— hey, do you think you could help me—?"

Danny blinked down at him in surprise, caught off-guard, "What? Oh… er— sure. Here…"

Danny took hold of Harry's arms and pulled; Harry's leg came free from the trick step and he climbed onto the one above it next to Danny, who patted him on the back in a friendly manner. Moody was still gazing at the map, "Potter…" he said slowly, "You didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke into Snape's office, did you? On the map, I mean?"

"Er… yeah, I did…" Harry admitted, "It was Mr. Crouch," he didn't mention the mysterious smudge mark – something was telling him that it wasn't the right time.

Moody's magical eye whizzed over the entire length of the map. He looked suddenly alarmed.

" _Crouch_?" Danny looked perturbed, "You sure about that, Harry?"

Harry nodded, "Positive."

Danny scrunched up his nose and looked down at Moody with suspicion like he didn't quite believe Harry.

"Well he's not here anymore," Moody concluded, eyes still etched to the map, "Crouch… that's very— very interesting…"

Nobody said anything for about a minute. Danny hadn't even looked in his direction, staring at Moody who was focused on the map. Harry could tell this news meant something to the ex-Auror and very much wanted to know what it was. He wondered whether he dared ask. Moody scared him slightly… yet he had just helped him avoid an awful lot of trouble…

"Er… Professor Moody… why d'you reckon Mr. Crouch wanted to look around Snape's office?"

Moody's magical eye left the map and fixed, quivering, upon Harry. It felt like he was staring right through his skin, and Harry had the impression that Moody was sizing him up, wondering whether to answer him or not, or how to tell him. Danny shifted next to him, but Harry didn't dare look away from the electric blue eye.

"Put it this way, Potter," Moody muttered finally, "They say that old Mad-Eye's obsessed with catching Dark wizards… but I'm nothing – nothing – compared to Barty Crouch. The one thing Crouch can't stand is a Death Eater that walks free."

Harry was burning to know more but Danny was having none of it.

"Maybe you should give Harry his map back, _Professor,"_ the older boy grumbled, holding out a hand expectantly as he loped over the trick step, "And the egg too."

Moody's penetrating stare had turned to Danny who had a dark look on his own face. Harry felt like he was missing something important.

He tossed Danny the egg with little thought but hesitated with the map, "Potter won't mind if I borrow it, would you, boy?"

"Oh!" Harry said, surprised.

He was very fond of his map, but on the other hand he was extremely relieved that Moody wasn't asking where he'd gotten it, and there was no doubt that he owed Moody a favour, no matter what rocky history he had with Danny Fenton. Not that he really knew Danny well either.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good boy," growled Moody. "I can make good use of this… this might be exactly what I've been looking for… Right, bed, Potter, come on, now…"

Danny raised his free arm, the other clasped tightly around the golden egg, "I'll take him _._ I'm going in the same direction, after all. And you still need to solve your little storage cupboard mystery. It'd be embarassing if an experienced Auror such as yourself couldn't figure out something as simple as a case of missing salamander liver."

Moody glowered at him but Danny ignored him, heading back up the stairs and latched onto Harry's forearm, dragging him after him. Harry stumbled, giving one last look down at the Professor, but his glare had returned to the Marauder's Map as he disappeared from sight.

They climbed to the top of the stairs together, slipping through the corridors with barely a whisper. Danny more than once stopping Harry from stumbling into a nearby portrait or a suit of armour in the pitch black – he was unusually quiet, his footfalls non-existent against the stone. If it wasn't for the tight grip Harry would have wondered if Danny was beside him at all.

They made their way up the main staircase, sneaking onto one of the stairwells as it twisted directions up past the fourth floor.

"Er… Danny?" he asked. The cold grip on his arm was beginning to make it prickle painfully with numbness. Danny grunted softly and Harry took it as a sign to continue, "Aren't the Caspers on the second floor?"

Danny's head swivelled in the darkness before he seemed to choose his direction, dragging Harry behind him again, "Yeah, but I'm not going there."

"Then where are you going?"

"Astronomy tower. I haven't had a chance to check it out yet, and I heard you guys have got a wicked setup," Danny grinned easily, but it seemed lacklustre around the edges.

"Was that where you were heading when… you know?"

"Er— yeah. I got lost on the way… You know, the whole 'never lived in a castle thing'."

Harry's eyebrows rose under his hair, "So you went _downstairs_ to find the tower?"

Danny simply gave a chuckle and waved him off, snatching Harry's arm back up and dragged him up to the sixth floor. Harry frowned, deciding he would ask the Weasley twins if they knew anything since Danny was so tight-lipped.

They had just reached the seventh floor's landing when Danny broke the silence, "Who's Padfoot?"

Harry would have fallen on his face if it wasn't for Danny's quick reflexes, "Wh—what?" he squawked, loud enough for a nearby portrait to grizzle out for them to quiet down.

"Padfoot," Danny iterated, "His name was on the back of the map. And I'm pretty sure I've heard you mention him to your friends before."

"He's no one!" Harry nearly yelled, yanking his arm free from Danny's grip and snatching his invisibility cloak and golden egg from the older boy, and marched toward the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Sure doesn't sound like no one," Danny was dogging his heels, his long legs stretching to one of Harry's two steps, "Harry, if you're in trouble you know I can—"

Harry whirled on Danny, feeling rather annoyed, "I don't even know you! Why do you think I'd just tell you everything about myself when you can't even say why you were out tonight-!"

Danny shook his head, "—that's not important. Harry, you need to tell me if you've heard anything; anything at all that might sound suspicious. Anything that you think may lead to who put your name in the cup—!"

"Why do you even care? You're not my guardian!" Harry gritted out childishly.

"No, I'm not; and I wouldn't want to be considering yours is a mass-murderer," Danny quipped snarky.

Harry's jaw clenched in fury. Turning to the Fat Lady who had woken during their rather torrid argument, he muttered "Pythonis spiritus", ignoring Danny's pleas as he clambered through the hole.

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. Please, can try again? I need to talk to you…"

But Harry was far too angry. He pushed his way into the common room as the Fat Lady screeched at Danny from the other side, "No Password, no entry!" before the portrait closed firmly shut.

ΔOl

 _Ugh, I've been so incredibly sick, the weather here can't seem to make up its mind. One day it's thirty degrees and the next it's fourteen – not to mention hay-fever. I've practically been bedridden. I hate spring._

 _Because of the awkward and awful break from this story, I'll be posting a new chapter every day until this Sunday (where we will return to the usual bi-weekly uploads). So that's six chapters in six days. Huzzah!_

 _That was my bribing attempt at an apology, so take it as you will._

 _The reason I wasn't posting daily while I was sick was because I wasn't happy with how I had originally written the following chapter, so I did a completely new chapter in between – this didn't turn out anything like I had originally intended, but that's writing for you I suppose._

 _Review! x_


	23. The Second Task I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Six –** _ **The Second Task I**_

"See you later, Dobby!" Harry pounded through the corridors, dashing by the surprised last-minute stragglers from breakfast who were slowly making their way to the second task, and took the stairs three at a time. His eyes were still bleary and his glasses crooked on his face from the overly-excitable house-elf's wake up call. He was sure his cheek had creases from the pages of the tomb he'd collapsed on.

Harry could feel the beginnings of a stitch emerging under his left lung as he flung himself out of the entrance hall, nearly sending Colin Creevey and his younger brother, Dennis, flying as he shoved his way out into the chilly February air and made a dash towards the Black Lake, which Harry distractedly mused looked even murkier and more ominous than usual.

He could see the grand stands from the first tournament rising from across the opposite bank and were already practically bursting in capacity – a mixture of colours as each school rallied for their own champion. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry ran flat out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another gold-wrapped table at the water's edge. Cedric, Fleur, Danny and Krum were besides the judge's table, watching Harry sprint towards them.

"I'm... here..." Harry wheezed heavily, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur's robes.

"Where have you been?" said a bossy, disapproving voice, "The task's about to start!"

Harry glanced around, still gasping for air, and saw Percy Weasley sitting pompously at the judge's table – Mr. Crouch had failed to show up again.

"Now, now, Percy!" Ludo Bagman attempted to placate Percy, while looking intensely relieved at the sight of Harry, "Let the boy catch his breath!"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime didn't look all too pleased to see him... It was obvious by the looks on their faces that they thought he wasn't going to show up. Lancer looked indifferent if not curious.

Harry bent at the waist, hand on his knees, clutching at his chest as he struggled to breathe. The stitch in his side had grown and he felt like a knife had been driven into his ribs, but there was no time to get rid of it; Ludo Bagman was now moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Danny, who was standing in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks. The rest of the champions held theirs at the ready. Harry fumbled for his where he eventually found it jammed in his back pocket.

He gave another glance at the older boy. Harry hadn't spoken to Danny since the night he had discovered the Egg's clue. The encounter had been short yet tense; and there had been that air of unsettlement between Danny and Moody that left Harry grimacing any time he thought about it. It had resonated so thickly that Harry felt like an eavesdropper to their silent conversation. He hadn't had the chance to talk to Sirius about Danny's questions that night, and both Ron and Hermione had concluded that he had just been speculating. Not many people knew Sirius was Harry's godfather except for Dumbledore, McGonagall and the Minister of Magic.

"All right, Harry?" Bagman whispered as he directed Harry a few extra feet away from Danny, who was glaring darkly at the water as if it had personally offended him – Harry wondered what the merpeople had taken from him. Bagman looked rather nervous, glancing over at the other boy every few moments, "Know what you're going to do?"

"Yeah," Harry panted, massaging his ribs.

"I just want to ask you something before your big dip!" Bagman stated loudly, earning him a sideways look from Krum down the row, before he lowered his voice to a hushed whisper, "Now, Harry, you haven't seen Daniel Fenton do anything… peculiar, have you? Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Not really. Why?" Harry asked. He nearly jumped when Danny's brooding gaze swivelled from the Black Lake to Bagman as if he had heard the judge's hushed whisper, despite being over ten feet away.

Noticing the glare, Bagman flapped his hand with a titter, his face turning a curious shade of puce that was shocking against his old Quidditch robes, "Never mind, never mind, my boy! It's just the things you hear sometimes! Office gossip, nothing important!"

He gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze, edged carefully around Danny, and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water towards the stands.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely one hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three then. One... two... three!"

The whistle pierced shrilly through the crowd's excited chatter, making them erupt into a raucous round of applause and cheering; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry yanked off his shoes and socks, tossing them to the side as he pulled the handful of gillyweed out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake.

It was so cold that he felt the skin on his legs searing as though he'd just submerged himself into a bath of flames and not icy water. His sodden robes weighed him down as he pressed forward and walked deeper; now the water was over his knees, and his rapidly numbing feet were slipping over silt and flat, slimy stones. He was chewing furiously on the gillyweed as fast and as hard as he could; it had the consistency of something unpleasantly slimy and rubbery, like octopus tentacles or rats tails. Waist-deep in the freezing water he stopped, swallowed and waited for something to happen.

He could hear laughter in the crowd and knew he must look stupid, walking into the lake without showing any sign of magical power. His shivers felt like quakes where his skin was exposed to the air as a cruel breeze lifted his hair. Goose pimples ran across his skin and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around himself, and attempted to ignore the stands; the laughter was becoming louder, and there were catcalls and jeering from where Harry knew the Slytherins were sitting...

Then, quite suddenly, Harry felt as if an invisible pillow had been pressed to his mouth and nose. He tried to draw breath, but it made his head spin; his lungs were empty – every breath he tried to pull made the burning in his lungs stronger and the fuzziness in his head louder. A piercing pain cut through either side of his neck, making Harry clamp his hands to his throat, where he felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air... He had gills. Without pausing to think, Harry did the only thing that made sense to his oxygen-addled brain – he catapulted himself into the freezing water.

The first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life. His head had stopped spinning; he took another great gulp of water and felt it pass smoothly through his gills, sending air back through his veins into his brain. He stretched out his hands in front of him and stared at them. Webbing had crept its way between the gaps of his fingers; they now looked green and ghostly under the rippling water. He twisted around and looked at his bare feet – they were longer and his feet were webbed too.

It looked as though he had sprouted flippers.

The water didn't feel as condemningly cold either... on the contrary, he felt pleasantly cool and very light, as if he could just float away in the current... Harry struck out once more, marvelling at how fast his flipper-like feet propelled him through the water, and noticed how clearly he could see; he didn't have the urge to blink as he gazed as far as he could into the lake's depths, which was so opaque and murky that he couldn't see further than ten feet. He had swum so far that he could no longer see the bottom, so with a mighty flick of his feet, Harry dove further in.

ΔOl

 _First chapter of the Second Task. I'll admit, a lot of this chapter has been taken directly from the book and can be considered simply as filler, so I apologise about that, but it sets a good base and setting for the following chapters._

 _Somebody asked if any of the Amity Park ghosts would be popping up. Unless there was some wayward portal that just happened to open nearby, I doubt it. But I think that would be fine with Danny since he has another job he needs to be focusing on besides the tournament…_

 _Review! Updates will be tomorrow! x_


	24. The Second Task II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Six –** _ **The Second Task II**_

Harry swam for what felt like at least twenty minutes, his ankle still stinging from the tight grasp of the grindylow's spindly hands that he'd just escaped. He was passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water; his ears threatened to pop under the pressure as the deep hum of his blood filled his eardrums. Then, at long last, he heard a snatch of a haunting mersong.

" _An hour long you'll have to look,_

 _And to recover what we took..."_

Harry kicked his legs harder and soon saw a rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. A crude painting of what Harry assumed were merpeople were spread across it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like a giant squid. Harry swam past the rock, following the mersong.

" _...your time's half gone, so tarry not,_

 _Lest what you seek stays here to rot..."_

Clusters of rocks and cave dwellings began to appear in front of Harry's eyes as he swam closer. They were stained with algae and loomed over him, casting deep shadows into the already cloudy water. Harry caught glimpses of faces staring out at him as he kicked past... faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefect's bathroom...

The merpeople had greyish skin, with long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were like beacons in the dark, glowing yellow as they leered out at Harry with their broken, discoloured teeth. Thick ropes of pebbles were wrung around their necks ceremoniously. One or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better; their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

Harry sped on, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weeds around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. More merpeople were emerging from the shadows now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. Harry sped around a corner and a very strange sight met his eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A row of merpeople were singing in the middle, inviting the champions towards them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder that sat proudly in the centre of the square. Five people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Ron was tied between Hermione and Cho Chang. There was also a girl who looked no older that eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. Another boy who looked like he belonged in seventh year was bound tightly next to the girl with dark skin and thick, square glasses. All five of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling on their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

Harry sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing, simply continued to watch him – the choir had paused in their song to eye him in amusement and curiosity. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy and very strong. For a fleeting second he thought of the knife Sirius had bought him for Christmas, locked in his trunk in the castle a quarter mile away, no use to him whatsoever.

He looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding him were carrying spears. He swam swiftly towards a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear. The merman laughed and shook his head.

"We do not help," he croaked out in a harsh voice.

"Come _on!"_ Harry attempted to yell, but only bubbles issued from his mouth, snatching away his words up towards the surface, and he tried to pull the spear from the merman's grasp, but he only laughed harder, yanking it from Harry's grasp and pushing him away, still shaking his head.

Harry glanced around frantically. Something sharp... anything...

There were rocks littering the lake bottom, peeking up through the thick mud. He dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one and returned to the statue. Grasping the slimy weed in his hand he began to desperately hack away at the rope binding Ron, and after several minutes' hard work, they broke apart. Ron floated, unconscious, a few inches above the bottom of the lake, drifting a little in the ebb of the water. Harry looked around, there was no sign of any of the other champions. What were they playing at? Why didn't they hurry up? He turned back to Hermione and raised the jagged rock, and began to hack at her bindings too – at once, several pairs of strong grey hands seized him. Half a dozen mermen were pulling him away from where Hermione was still tied, shaking their green-haired heads and laughing. Harry heard the mer-choir start up their song again.

"You take your own hostage," one of them said to him, "Leave the others..."

"No way!" Harry cried furiously – but only two large bubbles came out.

"Your task is to retrieve your own friend... leave the others..." they warned.

"She's my friend too!" Harry gestured wildly at Hermione, bubbles flying furiously from his mouth, "And I don't want them to die either!"

Cho's head was on Hermione's shoulder; the small silver-haired girl was ghostly green and pale, the older boy wasn't moving at all. Harry struggled to fight off the mermen, but they laughed harder than ever, holding him back. Harry looked fervidly around. Where were the other champions? Would he have time to take Ron to the surface and come back down for Hermione and the others? Would he be able to find them again? He looked down at his watch to see how much time he had left, but it had stopped working long ago.

Excited chatter erupted from the merpeople, as they pointed over his head, garbling to one another. Harry looked up and saw Cedric swimming towards him. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which make his features look oddly wide and stretched.

"Got lost!" Cedric announced, looking panic-stricken, "Fleur and Krum are coming now –Danny should be too!"

Feeling partially relieved, Harry watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho free. He pulled her up and out of sight without another word. Harry looked around, waiting. Where were Fleur, Krum and Danny? Time was getting short, and according to the song, the hostages would be lost after an hour...

Harry felt the noise before he heard it. The soothingly cool water dropped further in temperature, and it began to churn, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The merpeople halted in their song; those holding Harry loosened their grip, staring behind him before they released a horrified shrieks, their tails flashing in the dim glow as they dashed away from sight, diving over one another in their rush.

The haunting howl tore its way through the water, the currents swirling so violently that Harry had to grab onto Ron to stop him being dragged away, his other hand trying desperately to block out the noise; it was the sound Harry thought Dementors would make if they could cry – frightening and haunting. The pressure blew him into the large statue, knocking the little air from his lungs with a bubble-covered "Oof!", his glasses flying off his nose where they fell near the base of the statue – he dove after them, but the murky silt had already swallowed them up.

The wailing was getting louder. Harry watched as a pinprick of light emerged from in the darkness, closing in at a frightening speed and made a split-second decision. Grasping Ron tighter, Harry dragged him toward a nearby alcove, his vision blurry as he ducked inside, pulling the unconscious Ron in after him and hoping they were out of sight.

The howling stopped, but the light was becoming stronger. Harry peeked out of the cavern, and squinted at the illuminated town square; the shadows looked even darker now as glaring white crept over their surfaces. Then, in a rush of water that tugged at Harry's clothes, a figure catapulted its way through the depths, coming to a sudden stop that parted the water around its feet, sending a plume of dark mud scattering from where it stood in front of the statue.

Harry pinched his eyes to try and see clearer; whatever it was glowed like a patronus, but was far too humanoid. He watched nervously as it circled the base of the statue, gliding through the water so smoothly that it looked like it was flying, and came to a halt near the end of the line of hostages. Harry could see it struggle with the ropes, much like Harry had, before diving for the stones on the floor where it froze, fiddling with something it had found.

Through bleary eyes he watched the creature wrench its body around violently, the water swirled around it with each twist of its body. Harry ducked down lower in the recess, his skin breaking out in goose pimples at the intense cold that soaked the creature. Dark magic seemed to seep from its pores, encasing everything it touched – it didn't seem human. Its features were a blur, its white glow and striking colouring making it appear hazy and ethereal.

As if the being could feel him, its head of white whipped around and stared directly at his hiding spot. Two dots of green punctured into Harry's, a green that was far too familiar; one that haunted his nightmares and spoke only of death. Everything seemed to fade away as those pair of eyes dragged him deeper into their layered depths – far deeper than the lake was. Harry's eyesight seemed to sharpen and blur all at the same time; he was only able to see the green. A high-pitched cackle rammed through his skull and the frightened screams that he knew to be his mother's rattled in his brain, _"No, please, not Harry! Don't hurt Harry!"_

But just as quickly as the creature spotted Harry it turned away, releasing him from its hypnotic spell. It raised a hand toward the statue and a blinding light erupted from it and filled the square, forcing Harry to look away with the intensity.

When he looked back up, the creature was gone.

Harry sat in the shallow alcove for several minutes, feeling horribly shaken, before he pulled himself and Ron out. The water had turned immensely warmer, but the merpeople hadn't returned. Edging his way closer to the statue, glancing around for any sign of the glowing figure, Harry swam over to Hermione and Fleur's hostage – the boy was gone. A shard of ice was embedded deep into where the thick, slimy rope had held him, so thin that it looked like it could split a centaur hair. Harry glanced over at the girls, surprised to see them still tied up and wondered if he was able to carry all three of the remaining hostages. Where were Krum, Fleur and Danny? Surely they would have been here by now? Danny's hostage had already been taken by... something...

Harry hoped that they hadn't run into the creature on their way.

Letting Ron float in the current, Harry dove for the brackish, loose earth in search of his glasses, only to find them propped neatly up against the base of the statue.

ΔOl

 _Here we go. I promised you Tucker and he finally arrived! Not really an active character, but that is what happens when you're placed into an enchanted coma._

 _Harry's had a pretty scary experience in the lake. As someone who can't see a brick wall unless it introduces itself and offers me tea without my glasses, losing them is a terrifying experience when you're out of your comfort zone._

 _Updates might be a little late tomorrow since I have a double-shift so bear with me._

 _Review! xx_


	25. The Second Task III

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Six –** _ **The Second Task III**_

The cold, crisp air met his starving mouth as Harry breached the lake; gulping down mouthfuls of it, feeling as though he'd never breathed properly before, and panting pulled Ron and the little girl up with him. All around him, wild, green-haired heads were bobbing up to the surface, looking far less intimidating with their knotted hair plastered to their heads and smiling at him.

The crowd in the stands made a great deal of noise; shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet. Harry had the impression they thought that Ron and the little girl might be dead, but they were wrong... both of them had opened their eyes; the girl looked scared and confused as she floundered about, paddling unsteadily in the water, but Ron merely expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, turned to Harry, and said, "Wet, this, isn't it?" then he spotted Fleur's sister and asked incredulously, "What did you bring her for?"

Harry struggled to stay afloat, his muscles aching as he panted, "Fleur didn't turn up, I couldn't leave her."

"Harry, you prat," started Ron, "You didn't take that song thing seriously, did you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!"

"The song said—"

Ron rolled his eyes, "It was only to make sure you got back within the time limit! I hope you didn't waste time down there acting the hero!"

Harry felt both stupid and annoyed. It was all very well for Ron; he'd been asleep. He hadn't felt how eerie it was down in the lake, surrounded by spear-carrying merpeople who'd looked more than capable of murder, nor did he have to face the creature with the nightmarish green eyes.

"C'mon," Harry said shortly, "Help me with her, I don't think she can swim very well."

They pulled Fleur's sister through the water, back towards the bank where the judges stood watching, twenty merpeople accompanying them like a guard of honour, singing their horrible screechy songs.

Harry could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, Cedric and Cho, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets. An overwhelming sense of confusion and relief flooded Harry as he caught sight of the boy in glasses that Danny had been sent to rescue standing off to the side, unhurt and laughing at Danny who was in turn glancing nervously between Harry and the judges.

Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Ron from the bank as they swam nearer, but Percy, who looked very white and appeared much younger than usual, came splashing out to meet them. Meanwhile, Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?"

"She's fine!" Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted that his voice had long given out.

Percy was nowhere near as patient and waded knee-deep into the water, where he seized Ron and began dragging him up to the bank ("Gerroff, Percy! I'm all right!"); Danny had slunk back into the water as well, looking rather hesitant as he offered out a hand to pull Harry upright. He let go the moment he was steady, scurrying back to his friend's side without a backward glance. Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister.

"It was ze grindylows... zey attacked me... oh, Gabrielle, I thought... I thought..."

"Come here, you," said Madam Pomfrey bossily. She latched onto Harry and pulled him over toward Hermione and the others, wrapping him so tightly in a blanket that he felt he was in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down his throat, before moving on to scold Danny who'd just shoved his laughing friend back into the freezing shallow waters.

The potion left steam gushing out of Harry's ears.

"Harry, well done!" Hermione cried as he neared, "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!"

"Well—" said Harry. He would have told her about Dobby, but he just noticed Karkaroff watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Ron and Fleur's sister had got back safely, "Yeah, that's right," Harry announced boastfully, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.

"You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," Krum spoke up.

Harry had the impression that Krum was attempting to draw attention back on himself; perhaps to remind her that it was he who had rescued her from the lake, but Hermione just brushed away the beetle impatiently and said, "You're well out of the time limit though, Harry... Did it take you ages to find us?"

"No... I found you okay..."

The feeling of stupidity was rapidly growing in Harry's mind. Now that he was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear that Dumbledore's safety precautions wouldn't have permitted the death of a hostage just because their champion hadn't turned up. Why hadn't he just grabbed Ron and gone? He would have been back first... he wouldn't have had to have met that frightening creature way down below... Cedric and Krum hadn't wasted time worrying about anyone else; they hadn't taken the mersong seriously. Even Danny's hostage seemed to be fine…

A thought hit Harry like a Confundus Charm and he resisted the urge to hit himself. It was obvious that the green-eyed creature he had run into was just another challenge like the grindylows, or some sort of underwater boggart. Even out of the lake and rapidly drying, he could still feel those eyes as if they were boring into the back of his head. Glancing around, all he saw was Danny staring at him uneasily, before he turned away toward the lake.

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screeching noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Many of the merpeople were hissing in their croaking voice when they passed by Danny, who had fallen back into Madam Pomfrey's clutches and looked like he was suffocating under the tightly-bound blanket she had forced on him.

Finally Dumbledore straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give marks, I think," he crooked a finger in Danny's direction by the bank, who looked like he'd swallowed a bludger, "Mr. Fenton, a word if you would be so generous?"

The judges and Danny went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue a shivering Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister, who was looking irritated at Danny's friend as he had gone over and interrupted her and her sister's reunion ("The name's Tucker, Tucker Foley. Or TF, as in 'Too Fine'"). Fleur had many cuts on her face and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

"Look after Gabrielle," she told the matron, cutting off Danny's friend and turned to Harry, "You saved 'er," she said in wonderment, "Even though she was not your 'ostage."

"Yeah," said Harry, trying to his the dismay in his voice as he now heartily wished he's left all four of the hostages tied to the statue.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he felt his face burn and he wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again), then said to Ron, "And you too – you 'elped."

"Yeah," Ron looked extremely hopeful, "Yeah, a bit—"

Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him. Hermione looked simply furious, but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet. Danny shuffled away from the judges' table, head hung low.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us all she could about what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Polite applause rose from the stands.

"I deserved zero," hiccupped Fleur, shaking her magnificent mane of hair.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour."

Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Harry saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look.

"We therefore award him forty-seven points."

Harry's heart sank. If Cedric had been outside the time limit, he most certainly had been.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was third to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior. Krum puffed his chest out proudly as Hermione clapped for him.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued, "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.

" _Most_ of the judges," Bagman threw Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However... Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

Harry's stomach leapt – he was now tied for first place with Cedric. Ron and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

"There you go, Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise, "You weren't being thick after all – you were showing moral fibre!"

Fleur was clapping furiously too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering for Harry to listen.

Bagman raised a hand and declared, "Danny Fenton, although only four minutes behind Cedric Diggory, used some... rather experimental magic that will have to undertake evaluation. At this present time, his points are to be withheld."

Danny's shoulders slumped even further; he looked devastated as angry protests and accusations came from the stands, some aimed at the judges and some at himself. Professor Lancer strode over and placed a comforting hand on his student's shoulder, but Danny shoved it off, making his way back over to Tucker, who looked outraged on his behalf. Ron, on the other hand, looked positively giddy.

"Do you know what this means, Harry? With Fenton out of the way, you're bound to win the cup!"

Harry would have responded, but Bagman wasn't finished, "The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman, "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

It was over. Harry thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes… it was over, he had got through… he didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth…

Next time he was in Hogsmeade, Harry decided as he walked back up the stone steps into the castle, he was going to buy Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the year.

ΔOl

 _Somebody asked whether Danny using his ghost powers in the competition was cheating, and that he would never do such a thing. I disagree, in the show Danny used his powers many a time to gain what he wanted (getting revenge, sneaking into the girl's bathroom, etc.) – that's pretty much how we were introduced to his villainous alter-ego after all, because he cheated on that big exam. So yeah, I could totally see Danny cheating, especially if he was getting desperate._

 _I actually did manage to upload in time – I have an hours break before I head off to my second job so I thought I'd throw this in while I still had the chance._

 _Review! I'll be uploading again tomorrow if I haven't keeled over from university life. xx_


	26. Padfoot Returns

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven –** _ **Padfoot Returns**_

Harry wheezed slightly under the weight of his bag, crammed with over a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread and a pitcher of pumpkin juice that he, Ron and Hermione had stolen from the lunch table. They were now making their way up a steep incline on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, past Dervish and Banges. Sirius, in his dog form was leading the way, zigzagging up the mountain in easy, leaping bounds. His fur looked even more tattered than usual and Harry could count the number of ribs sticking out of his godfather's sides. They followed Sirius higher up, where the ground was covered in boulders and rocks. For nearly half an hour they climbed the winding, stony path, trailing after Sirius's wagging tail, sweating in the sun; the shoulder straps on Harry's bag were cutting into his shoulders.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place he had vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. Squeezing their way through the crevice they discovered a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the hippogriff. Half grey horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of them. All three of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front legs and allowed Hermione to rush forward and scratch at the feathery down that covered his neck. Harry, however, was looking at the black dog, which had just turned into his godfather.

Sirius was wearing ragged grey robes – the same ones he had been wearing when he had escaped Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire-floo call, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin.

"Chicken!" was Sirius's hoarse but happy cry as he tossed a few old copies of the Daily Prophet onto the cave floor that he had been carrying in his mouth.

Harry pulled open his bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread.

Sirius didn't hesitate, tearing open the parcel and seating himself right in the middle of the cave floor, biting a large chunk off a drumstick with fervour, "Thanks," he mumbled through a mouthful, before swallowing, "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'll draw attention to myself," he grinned up at Harry, but Harry returned the smile reluctantly.

"What are you doing here, Sirius?" he finally asked.

"Fulfilling my duty as godfather," said Sirius, gnawing on a chicken bone in a very dog-like manner, "Don't worry about it, I'm pretending to be a lovable stray," he was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Harry's face, said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter... well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws it out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked them up and unfolded them. Harry, however, continued to stare at Sirius.

"What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"

"You three and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," Sirius coolly replied, shrugging as he dug into another chicken bone.

Ron looked up from his paper, "Karkaroff mentioned something about Phantom, didn't he, Harry? He said that he'd been sent out to find you."

Sirius gave a barking laugh, "They have, but they're running the boy so ragged that he can barely keep his eyes open. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, from what I can tell, have started to get a bit lazy; they have Phantom jumping through all their hoops so they can just fill out the paperwork at the end of it all and get the credit."

Harry frowned, "How can he get tired? He's a ghost, isn't he?"

Hermione heaved a frustrated sigh, "He's not a ghost, Harry, he's a wraith – they're different. Wraiths undertake the appearance and habits of people who have died and their memory forgotten. The type Danny Phantom is believed to be has been discovered to hold varying echelons of power – sort of like magic levels – which state how much they can interact with the living plain and how alike they are to their dead counterparts," she finished offhandedly as Buckbeak nudged his head further into her palm, demanding her full attention, "And Danny Phantom is considered to be _very_ powerful."

"And you're obsessed," Ron said, making Hermione glower at him.

But Sirius was nodding in agreement with Hermione's ascertainment, "He's dangerous, I'll give Phantom that. He's been on my tracks for a few months now – nearly caught me a few times too. I ran right into him when I was transformed once; thought I was a goner," Sirius gave them all a mischievous wink, "Good thing he's a dog-person," Harry and Ron laughed. Hermione frowned disapprovingly.

Ron nudged Harry and passed him the Daily Prophets. There were two: the first bore the headline _Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch,_ the second, _Ministry Witch Still Missing – Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved._

Harry scanned the story about Crouch. Phrases jumped out at him: _hasn't been seen in public since November... house appears deserted... St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment... Ministry refuses to confirm rumours of critical illness..._

"They're making it sound like he's dying," said Harry slowly, "But he can't be that ill if he manages to get up here..."

"My brother is Crouch's personal assistant," Ron informed Sirius helpfully, "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," Harry's head was bent back in the Prophet, still reading the story, "The night my name came out of the goblet...

"But that still doesn't explain what he was doing in Snape's office that night," Ron added.

"Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching dark wizards," Harry offered to Sirius, who had taken to chewing slowly on his chicken now, tossing the stripped bones over to Buckbeak, who happily crunched on them.

"Yes, I heard that's a bit of a mania with him," said Sirius, nodding, "If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater."

"And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!" said Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.

"Yes, and that doesn't make any sense at all," said Sirius.

"Yeah, it does!" Ron rebutted excitedly, but Sirius shook his head.

"No, listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him."

Ron frowned at his logic while Hermione nodded. Harry hesitated before he said, "Sirius? Is there any way to... trick the Marauders Map?"

Sirius looked curiously up at him, "It never has been before. You think someone's trying to frame Crouch?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "I mean, maybe? It's just... Crouch wasn't the only one out that night... there was something I'd never seen before."

At Sirius's urgings, Harry told him about the ink splotch that had appeared on the map and had mysteriously disappeared into thin air.

"Harry, you didn't tell us that!" Hermione chastised him, looking worried.

"I was a bit distracted at the time! It didn't seem that important then!" Harry yelled back.

Sirius's brow furrowed in thought, "Are you sure the name read Danny Phantom?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so..."

"But that's impossible! You can't Apparate in and out of Hogwarts! There are simply centuries of wards stopping people from entering either in or out of the school grounds!"

"I don't know how he did it. Hermione, but he was there and then he was gone!"

"It's a bit of a coincidence, isn't it?" Sirius said.

Harry blinked, "What is?"

"That an internationally-renowned dark wizard hunter appears within Hogwarts' walls the same night a missing Bartemius Crouch shows up on the map."

"What are you thinking, Sirius?" Hermione asked curiously.

Sirius smiled dully, "It sounds like Phantom was looking for Bartemius Crouch."

"Crouch? Why would he be looking for Crouch? Isn't he still after you?" Ron asked.

"And Bertha Jorkins," Harry added.

Sirius shrugged, "Phantom is smart. Maybe he's caught on to something we haven't. He is a dark wizard hunter."

Hermione gasped, "Sirius, you can't!"

"What? What's going on?" Ron asked.

"Sirius wants to use himself to draw Phantom out!"

Sirius shifted from his spot on the floor, coming to stand next to Harry and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "It's the fastest way. If Phantom knows something about Crouch, then he might know how your name got in the cup."

"But what if he doesn't? Harry asked quietly.

Sirius didn't reply.

ΔOl

 _Sorry this is late. I was so exhausted after work last night that I didn't have the energy to even turn on my computer, let alone edit and post it._

 _Some people disliked the idea that Danny cheated in the last Task, stating that after his experience with Dark Dan he wouldn't risk it - but this is an alternate universe, who knows if Danny ever even met Dan? After all wizards take OWLs and NEWTs, not SATs, and we don't even know if Danny ever met Vlad! Those situations were all examples to state that Danny isn't afraid to use his powers for his own personal gain – like Spiderman._

 _Another person argued that Danny was simply using the abilities given to him, so it couldn't truly be considered cheating, but then again wizards and witches may consider these powers to be dark magic._

 _So after much consideration I decided that Danny was going to be a wraith; wraith is the Scottish word for ghost, and are impressions of souls that have not been able to pass on. They are commonly seen right before somebody dies. They have also been perceived to be obsessive and can taking on the appearance of the dying person's loved ones (familial, romantic or platonic)._

 _Obviously I've changed some of the mythology to suit the story, with wraiths being related to Dementors and Lethifolds – but instead of feasting on happiness or human flesh, wraiths feed off memories of the dead, making them stagnant and obsessive due to their lack of emotional or mental development – which makes Danny very interesting as none of his memories are lost but constantly progressing as he grows and gains new experiences._

 _Updates will return to their normal days of Wednesdays and Sundays from now on. I'll see you then, enjoy and review! x_


	27. The Madness of Mr Crouch I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight –** _ **The Madness of Mr. Crouch I**_

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Harry was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Tetrawizard Tournament for which he needed to prepare, but he still didn't know what he would have to do. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held him back in Transfiguration.

"You are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock, Potter," she told him firmly, "Mr. Bagman will be waiting there to tell the champions about the third task."

So at half past eight that night, Harry left Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs. As he crossed the entrance hall, he noticed Cedric and Danny making their way out the doors. They waited for him to catch up.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" Cedric asked Harry as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night, "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we've got to find treasure."

"That wouldn't be too bad," Harry mused, thinking he would simply ask Hagrid for a niffler to do the job for him.

Cedric turned to the tall boy on his other side, "What do you think, Danny?"

Danny, who had been staring intently at the watch strapped to his wrist, glanced up surprised, "I'm just hoping it's not the Physical Fitness Test. I'd have to forfeit on the spot!"

The Casper boy had been in much higher spirits after the Tetrawizard judges had announced that his second task results would only suffer slight penalisation, making Danny second in the competition after Harry and Cedric. Harry had heard rumours that he'd made amends with Sam.

Harry had been happy to find that Danny hadn't approached him about Sirius again, and the older boy had taken to acting like he couldn't see Harry whenever they crossed paths in the corridors. Although Harry didn't know whether it was on purpose or if it was because of the deep purple shadows which were seemingly tattooed underneath Danny's eyes; Harry thought he was more and more resembling a zombie over the past week.

Danny had turned back to his watch and the rest of the journey was spent with Cedric and Harry making idle talk. They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, bowed through a gap in the stands and walked out onto the field.

"What've they done to it?" Cedric cried indignantly, stopping dead.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Harry, Danny and Cedric made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges (Danny barely had to lift his feet to clear them). Fleur beamed at Harry as he came nearer; her attitude toward him had changed completely since he'd saved her sister from the lake.

"Well, what d'you think?" Bagman beamed, throwing his arms wide as Harry, Danny and Cedric climbed over the last hedge, "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, after spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Harry's and Cedric's faces, "You'll have your Quidditch pitch back to normal by the time the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment. Then—

"Maze," Danny murmured from his clock face, now glancing between his watch and the darkened horizon-line behind the Forbidden Forest.

"That's right!" Bagman congratulated him condescendingly, "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Tetrawizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through ze maze?" asked Fleur.

"There will be obstacles," Bagman warned them happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze," Bagman grinned at Harry and Cedric, "Then Mr. Fenton will enter... then Mr. Krum... and finally, Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you make it past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Harry's heart had already dropped in worry when Bagman had first mentioned that Hagrid was supplying the creatures – he knew exactly what kind he would provide for an event like this; his friend thought baby dragons made good house pets. The maze was not likely going to be fun at all. However, he nodded politely with the other champions. Cedric looked rather queasy. Danny was frowning at the time again.

"Very well... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we? It's a bit chilly..." Bagman hurried alongside Harry as they began to wind their way out of the growing maze. Harry had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him again (of which he wanted to know nothing about. In fact, he really wanted to talk to Danny about Phantom, seeing as he was the only person Harry thought would know something about him. Sirius had yet to have made any notion of being able to find him), but just then, Krum tapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Could I haff a vord?"

Harry was slightly surprised, "Yeah, all right."

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Okay," curiosity crept its way into Harry's voice. Krum had never said more than three words to him.

Bagman looked slightly perturbed.

"I'll wait for you here, Harry, shall I?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," said Harry diplomatically, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, "I think I can find my way up to the castle on my own, thanks."

Harry and Krum left the stadium together and Harry glanced ahead to see that Danny had not followed the others back up to the castle, but had veered off towards the ground outskirts. Harry was surprised to find that Krum did not set course for the Durmstrang ship either. Instead, they followed after Danny at a safe distance who didn't seem to notice them.

Krum continued past Hagrid's cabin and the illuminated Beauxbatons carriage, dragging his feet to let Harry catch up.

'Where do you think he's going?" Harry asked, following the silhouette of Danny that, with his much longer legs and hastened pace, had carefully skirted around the forest toward the main entrance gates and disappeared into the darkness out of sight.

"Who?" Krum asked distractedly, glancing around the empty grounds before shaking his head, "Never mind. That is not vhat I vanted to talk to you about."

"We're not following Danny? Then what are we doing all the way out here for?" asked Harry.

"Don't vant to be overheard," Krum replied shortly.

When at last they'd reached a quiet stretch of ground a short way from the Beauxbatons' horses' paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face Harry.

"I vant to know," he glowered, "Vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny."

Harry, whose mind was still wondering where Danny could have unceremoniously disappeared to, and had expected something much more serious than this, stared up at Krum in amazement.

"Nothing," he said, confused. Had Krum actually believed the slander Rita Skeeter had written about him and Hermione? Surely not; the callous woman had gotten his friend's hands covered in Bubotuber pus and sent her straight to the hospital wing.

Krum didn't seem to believe him, his glare darkening further, and Harry, somehow struck anew by how tall Krum was, elaborated, "We're friends. She's not my girlfriend and she never has been. It's just that Skeeter woman making things up."

"Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often," said Krum, looking suspiciously at Harry.

"Yeah, because we're _friends_ ," he enunciated.

He couldn't quite believe he was having this conversation with Viktor Krum, the famous International Quidditch player. It was as though the eighteen-year-old Krum thought he, Harry, was an equal – a real rival—

"You haff never... you haff not..."

"No," Harry said, very firmly.

Krum looked slightly happier. He stared at Harry for a few seconds, then said, "You fly very vell. I vos votching at the first task."

"Thanks," Harry grinned broadly, and suddenly felt much taller himself, "I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. The Wronski Feint, you really—"

But something moved behind Krum in the trees, and Harry, who had some experience of the sort of things that lurked in the forest, instinctively grabbed Krum's arm and pulled him around, taking several steps back, and clearing them from the suddenness of the tree-line.

"Vot is it?"

Harry shook his head, staring at the place where he'd seen the movement. He slipped his hands inside his robes, reaching for his wand.

"Danny?" he said in warning, "Are you there?"

Suddenly a man staggered out from behind a tall oak. For a moment, Harry didn't recognise him... then he realised it was Mr. Crouch.

He looked as though he had been travelling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and his skin looked grey and clammy with exhaustion. His neat hair and moustache were in desperate need of both a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that wasn't quite there. His bulging eyes rolled over Harry and Krum unseeingly before he turned to the tree he'd emerged from and began chatting amiably with it.

"...don't forget to notify Dumbledore of the confirmed number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament. Karkaroff wrote to me and said there would be twelve...and when you've done that, Weatherby, make sure have an owl sent with those reports to Senior Undersecretary Umbridge regarding Black's keeper about his probation period..."

ΔOl

 _Late because I decided sleep over updates._

 _Where could Danny be going, I wonder? Updates will be on Sunday if you're lucky._

 _Review! x_


	28. The Madness of Mr Crouch II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight –** _ **The Madness of Mr. Crouch II**_

"Do you know if anybody else saw Mr. Crouch?"

"No. I don't think so," said Harry, "Krum and I were talking. Mr. Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, and then we saw Mr. Crouch coming from out of the forest—"

"Where are they?" Dumbledore asked as the Beauxbatons carriage emerged from the darkness.

"Over here," Harry pointed, quickening his pace so he could lead the way through the trees. He couldn't hear Crouch's voice anymore, but he knew where he was going; it hadn't been much past the Beauxbatons carriage... somewhere around here...

"Viktor?" Harry shouted.

No one answered.

"They were here," stated Harry to Dumbledore, "They were definitely somewhere around here..."

"Lumos," Dumbledore said, lighting his wand to combat the blackened sky.

Its narrow beam travelled from black trunk to black trunk, illuminating the ground. And then it fell upon a pair of feet.

Harry and Dumbledore hurried forward. Krum was sprawled on the forest floor; he seemed to be unconscious. There was no sign at all of Mr. Crouch. Dumbledore bent over Krum and gently lifted one of his eyelids.

"Stunned," he answered Harry's unsaid question. His half-moon glasses glittered in the wand-light as he peered around at the surrounding trees.

"Should I go get someone?" Harry asked worriedly, "Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," Dumbledore stood swiftly, "Stay here."

Pointing his wand at Hagrid's hut, a flurry of slivery-white blossomed from it, and darted off through the trees like a ghostly bird. Dumbledore returned to Krum's side and waved his wand again, "Ennervate."

A very dazed-looking Krum opened his eyes, where, upon seeing Dumbledore, hurried to sit up, but the old Headmaster simply placed a hand on his shoulder, gently urging him to lie still.

"He attacked me!" Krum exclaimed, putting a hand up to his head, "The old man attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked me from behind!"

"Lie still for a moment," Dumbledore soothed.

Heavy, jolting footsteps thundered over to meet them, and Hagrid came panting in sight with Fang on his heels. He was holding his crossbow.

"Professor Dumbledore!" he cried, his eyes widening, "Harry – what the—?"

"Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore calmly started, "His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody—"

"No need, Dumbledore," came a wheezy growl, "I'm here."

Moody was furiously limping across the final stretch by the Beauxbatons' carriage, leaning on his staff, his wand lit.

"Damn leg," he said when he reached them, "Would've been quicker... what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch—"

"Crouch?" asked Hagrid blankly.

"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" reminded Dumbledore sharply.

"Oh, yeah... right y'are, Professor..." Hagrid turned and disappeared into the dark trees, Fang trotting after him.

"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore notified Moody, "But it is essential that we find him."

"I'm onto it," Moody growled, pulling out his wand and hobbling deeper into the forest.

Neither Dumbledore, Krum nor Harry spoke again until they heard the unmistakeable sounds of Hagrid and Fang returning, the lighter footsteps of Karkaroff's nearly being drowned out as he hurried along behind them. He was wearing his sleek silver furs, and he looked pale and cross.

"What is this?" he cried when he saw Krum still laying on the ground beside Dumbledore and Harry, "What's going on?"

"I vos attacked!" Krum sat up slower this time and rubbed his head again, "Mr. Crouch or votever his name—"

"Crouch _attacked_ you? _Crouch_ attacked you? The Tetrawizard judge?"

"Igor," Dumbledore raised his palm at the other Headmaster, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his furs around himself, looking livid.

"Treachery!" he bellowed, pointing at Dumbledore, "It's a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretences, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences – here's what I think of you!"

Karkaroff spat on the ground at Dumbledore's feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid had seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

"Apologise!" Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff, gasped for breath with Hagrid's massive fist holding him at the throat, his feet dangling in mid-air.

"Hagrid, no!" Dumbledore shouted, his eyes flashing.

Hagrid reluctantly unwound his hand from Karkaroff's neck, and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves soiling his furs as they fell on him.

"Kindly escort Harry back up to the castle, Hagrid," Dumbledore ordered.

Breathing heavily, Hagrid gave Karkaroff a glowering look.

"Maybe I'd better stay here, Headmaster..."

"You will take Harry back to school, Hagrid," Dumbledore repeated firmly, "Take him right up to Gryffindor Tower. And Harry – I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do – any owls you might want to send – they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

"Er, yes," said Harry, astounded. How had Dumbledore known, at that very moment, he had been thinking about sending Pigwidgeon straight to Sirius, to tell him what had happened?

"I'll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster," Hagrid relented, continuing to stare menacingly at Karkaroff, who was still sprawled across the forest floor, tangled in fur and roots, and clasped a solid hand onto Harry's shoulder, "Stay, Fang. C'mon, Harry."

Krum suddenly jolted out of whatever daze the stunning spell had left him in, "Vhere is Fenton?"

"Fenton?" Karkaroff parroted meekly.

"He means Danny Fenton," Harry offered, "The Casper champion. We saw him before Crouch—"

He stopped at Dumbledore's look, "Harry, I thought you said that no one else saw Mr. Crouch apart from the two of you?"

"He didn't! It looked like Danny was heading towards Hogsmeade! He didn't go anywhere near—!"

Hagrid's grip on Harry's shoulder tightened.

Karkaroff sprung to his feet, red welts had risen across his neck like large sausages had tried to strangle him, "A Casper! That's who did this to you, Viktor? I knew their type were nothing but swindling glory-hunters – the lot of them! And now look what's happened, Dumbledore! My prize student attacked and a Tetrawizard judge missing; so much for international cooperation—!"

Dumbledore ignored him and asked Harry carefully, "Did Mr. Fenton head anywhere near the Forbidden Forest, Harry?"

"Not that I saw, no."

Dumbledore turned to Krum, who nodded along with Harry, and his face fell into what oddly looked like relief.

Dumbledore's voice was a lot calmer as he announced, "Mr. Fenton had my permission to leave school grounds tonight, as he had an urgent appointment with the Ministry, for which I had organised a portkey for him, Professor Karkaroff. I highly doubt that Mr. Fenton had time to return to the forest to aid or harm Mr. Crouch without missing his time-slot," he waved an arm at the castle and said, "Hagrid, if you would please?"

Hagrid, whose grip on Harry's shoulder was beginning to make the rest of his arm numb, gave Harry a little shove with a final glare at Karkaroff and they began their silent trek past the Beauxbatons carriage and up toward the castle. Harry could hear Karkaroff continuing to curse at Dumbledore about the missing boy even after it was too dark to see them.

"How dare he," Hagrid finally growled out as they passed the Black Lake, "How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore'd do anythin' like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you in the tournament in the firs' place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he's bin lately. An' you!" Hagrid rounded on Harry, who looked up at him, taken aback, "What were yeh doin', wanderin' off with ruddy Krum? And what's this I hear abou' yeh followin' Fenton out onto the grounds? They're Durmstrangs and Caspers, Harry! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn' they? Hasn' Moody taught yeh nothin'? 'Magine lettin' them lure yeh off on yer own—!"

"Danny hasn't done anything! And Krum's all right!" said Harry as they climbed the steps into the entrance hall, "He wasn't trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk to me about Hermione—"

"I'll be havin' a few words with her, an' all," said Hagrid grimly, stomping up the stairs, "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can' trust any of 'em."

"You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime," Harry said, annoyed.

"Don' you talk ter me abou' her!" said Hagrid, and he looked quite frightening for a moment, "I've got her number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell her what's comin' in the third task. Ha! Yeh can' trust any of 'em!"

Hagrid was in such a bad mood that Harry was quite glad to say good-bye to him in front of the Fat Lady. He clambered through the portrait hole into the common room and hurried straight for the corner where Ron and Hermione were sitting, to tell them what had happened.

ΔOl

 _An anonymous reviewer wrote this to me in a review:_

"Danny has to show up. This has the potential to be where you deviate from the book, with Crouch actually getting to Dumbledore."

 _Nope, sorry! I have other plans in mind at the moment, and they don't include Danny being around for a little while…_

 _Review! x_


	29. The Dream I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine –** _ **The Dream I**_

"It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead, "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Victor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Victor wasn't looking."

"Like Fenton," announced Ron at once, "That's why he organised his appointment with the Ministry so late, so he could have an alibi."

"I don't think so," Harry shook his head, "Dumbledore seemed pretty certain that Danny wasn't involved, and I don't reckon he'd have had time to get in and out of the forest without Dissaparating, and Krum never mentioned hearing anything."

"You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" huffed Hermione.

"Okay… how is this for a theory?" said Ron excitedly, "Krum attacked Crouch – no, wait for it – and then stunned himself!"

"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?" asked Hermione coldly.

"Oh yeah..."

It was daybreak. Harry, Ron and Hermione had crept out of their dormitories very early and hurried up to the Qwlery together to send a note to Sirius. Now they were standing looking out at the misty grounds. All three of them were puffy-eyed and pale because they had been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch.

"Just go through it again, Harry," said Hermione, "What did Mr. Crouch actually say?"

"I've told you, he wasn't making much sense. He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault... He mentioned his son."

"Well, that was his fault," Hermione said testily.

"He was out of his mind," Harry continued, "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were alive, and he kept demanding Percy to get Phantom to send him instructions."

"And… remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" asked Ron tentatively.

"I've told you," Harry said dully, "He said he's getting stronger."

There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, "But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving…"

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," said Harry, and Ron winced at the sound of the name, "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore and Phantom..."

Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. The many perches were half-empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning from its night's hunting with a mouse in its beak.

"If Snape hadn't held me up," Harry spat bitterly, "We might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy, Potter… what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" said Ron quickly, "Maybe – hang on – how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something," answered Harry despondently.

"Wouldn't put it past him," Ron muttered.

"We need to see Professor Moody," said Hermione, "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch."

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy," Harry moaned.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," said Ron, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't—"

"Shh!" said Hermione suddenly, "Look!"

She pointed out of the window onto the fog-smattered grounds. Harry leant forward, his nose pressing against the glass as he squinted. Through the thick mist he could see the tall, dim outline of Danny Fenton making his way slowly up the main path to the castle.

"Is he _limping_?" Hermione gasped.

"D'you think he got hurt by something in the forest – you know, when he was done sorting out Crouch?" Ron was quick to ask.

Harry frowned, "It looked like he came from Hogsmeade. But what could he have been doing out all night?"

"Did Dumbledore say what business Danny had at the Ministry?" Hermione asked, looking glum when Harry shook his head.

They watched Danny disappeared from sight as two voices arguing reached Harry ears, coming closer as the owners climbed the stairs to the Owlery. Harry nudged his friends in their sides and turned towards the entrance.

"—that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that—"

"—we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did—"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, that's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

"Maybe we should ask Danny for help, he did say he had connections with the Ministry!"

"Wouldn't tell us how he does though, did he? No, best to keep him out of this."

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.

Fred grinned.

"Fine – we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," he said. He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered.

"Well, don't let us hold you up," Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

Ron didn't move, "Who're you blackmailing?"

The grin vanished from Fred's face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," he said easily.

"Didn't sound like that," said Ron.

Fred and George looked at each other. Then George said abruptly, "I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but—"

"Do you know where Danny was heading last night?" Harry interrupted.

The twins blinked, "Haven't the foggiest," Fred admitted, "He disappears all the time."

George nodded, "He's always been mysterious like that – the real private sort. Runs off at the drop of a witch's hat; usually don't see him for hours, sometimes days."

"What does he need to be private about?" Ron asked bluntly.

"Hopefully not the cure on how to fix your overinflated head, since it is something we'd really like to know – especially if it keeps you out of our business," Fred fired back.

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," rebutted Ron, "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl, "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."

"No, I won't!" said Ron hotly.

George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. He turned around and grinned at Ron.

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

ΔOl

 _I forgot to upload. Whoops. A day late but hopefully that's all right with you lot._

 _So Danny had official Ministry business, and turned up the morning after injured… wonder what happened?_

 _Leave a review if you have the time, I'd really appreciate it. Enjoy and I'll see you Sunday-ish! xx_


	30. The Dream II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine –** _ **The Dream II**_

Ron let out a deep suffering groan as Hermione bade he and Harry farewell on her way to Ancient Ruins, "It's going to be boiling in Trelawney's room, she never puts out that fire," he said as the two made their way toward the staircase leading to the silver ladder and trapdoor, and added, "Whacky old bat."

He was quite right. The dimly lit room was sweltering hot. The fumes from the perfumed fire were heavier than ever. Harry's head swam as he made his way over to one of the curtained windows. While Professor Trelawney was looking the other way, disentangling her shawl from a lamp, he nudged it open an inch or so and settled back in his chintz armchair, so that the soft breeze played across his face. It was incredibly soothing.

"My dears," began Professor Trelawney, perching herself on the edge of her winged armchair and peering around at them with her bulbous bespectacled eyes, "We have almost finished in our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights..."

She waved her wand and the lamps went out. The fire was the only source of light now. Through the shadows Harry was surprised to spot a rather sullen Sam Manson sitting in the far corner of the room again – he hadn't seen her since her initial class in November, but there she was seated primly on top of one of the overstuffed ottomans, another thick tome floating in front of her. Sam's mouth was pulled in a grim line and her dark eyes narrowed as they sped across the length of the pages, seemingly taking no interest in whatever the Divination professor had to say.

Professor Trelawney seemed to return the favour; bending down she lifted a miniature model of the solar system from under her chair, contained within a glass dome. It was a beautiful thing; each planet floated in thin air, softly rotating on their axes as their moons glimmered around them, in the centre the sun sat like an entrapped ball of flame, teasingly flicking out at the nearby planets. Harry watched lazily as Professor Trelawney began one of her long speeches of how fascinating the angle of Mars was sitting parallel to Neptune.

The heavy perfumed fumes washed over him, and the breeze from the window played across his face. He could hear an insect humming gently somewhere behind the curtain. His eyelids began to droop...

He was soaring through the clear blue sky, skimming over clouds at a terrifying speed; his broom was missing, but it didn't seem to matter as he pierced through the combating winds which only tugged at his hair and clothes toward an old, ivy-covered house set high on a hillside. Lower and lower he flew, the wind blowing pleasantly in Harry's face, until he reached a dark and broken window in the upper story of the house and entered. Now he was flying along a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end... through the door he went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up...

Harry had stopped in his flight, but the feeling of weightlessness stayed, not dissimilar to one of the planets in Trelawney's spherical dome, as his shadow, drawn darkly on the dusty floor was swept out from beneath him, banishing itself to a chair facing away from him towards an empty fireplace... There were two dark shapes on the floor beside the chair... both of them were stirring...

One was a huge snake... the other was a man... a short, balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose... he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug...

"You are in luck, Wormtail..." said a cold, high-pitched voice from the depths of the chair where his shadow had swept into, "You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything. He is dead."

"My Lord!" gasped the man on the floor, "My Lord, I am... I am so pleased... and so sorry..."

"Nagini," said the cold voice, "You are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all... but never mind, never mind... there is still Harry Potter..."

The snake hissed. Harry could see its tongue flicker in disappointment.

"Now, now..." the voice nearly cooed, "You had your fun last evening of which we can be thankful for; it appears that the Phantom isn't as impervious to your poison as we were led to believe. It is a shame he escaped, but it is not important. Then again, we would not have had to meet him if it weren't for such easily avoidable circumstances..." Wormtail visibly flinched as the voice was directed back at him, "Now, Wormtail, perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another gaffe from you..."

"My Lord... no... I beg you..."

The tip of a wand emerged from around the back of the chair. It was pointed at Wormtail.

"Crucio!" said the cold voice.

Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body was on fire, the screaming filled Harry's ears as the scar on his forehead seared with pain; he was yelling too... Voldemort would hear him, would know he was there...

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry's eyes slammed open. He was lying on the floor of Professor Trelawney's room with his hands over his face. His scar was still burning so badly that his eyes prickled with tears. The pain had been real. The whole class was standing around him, and Ron was kneeling next to him, looking terrified.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Of course he isn't!" cried Professor Trelawney, looking more excited than worried. Her great eyes loomed over Harry, gazing at him, "What was it, Potter? An apparition? What did you see?"

"Nothing," Harry lied. He sat up. He could feel himself shaking. He couldn't stop himself from looking around into the shadows behind him; Voldemort's voice had sounded so close...

"You were clutching your scar!" Professor Trelawney's beads jangled in her head-bobbing excitement, "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now, Potter, I have experiences in these matters!"

Sam Manson from the far side of the room went from being worried to outraged, "Of course you don't, you old loon! It's obviously just a case of phantom pain; completely normal. Not that you'd ever be able to pick up on anything as simple as that," she spat.

Harry ignored them, "I just need to go to the hospital wing, I think. Bad headache."

Trelawney threw Sam a scathing look before starting at Harry with a grand flourish, "My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room! If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever—"

"The only extraordinary vibrations in this room were your students beginning to snore," Sam quipped, forcing Trelawney to round on her with a biting remark of her own, her insect eyes wider than ever.

Harry stood up. The class backed away. They all looked unnerved.

"See you later," Harry muttered to Ron who nodded, and he picked up his bag and headed for the trapdoor, ignoring the two seers who had begun to toss petty insults at one another – Trelawney glanced at him with a look of longing and frustration as he brushed past, as though she'd been denied a treat.

When Harry reached the bottom of the ladder, he was surprised to see Danny Fenton leaning heavily on the far wall near the spiral staircase, not unlike the first time Sam Manson had appeared in one of Harry's lessons. His face was drawn; his skin clammy and pale and his eyes bloodshot as he heaved laboured breaths. He seemed to be favouring his left leg and Harry could see the edge of a bandage peeking out from under his trouser leg.

A niggling thought in his mind told Harry to ask if the Casper was all right, but he selfishly shoved it away as he rubbed at his scar, edging his way around the sickly Danny, who didn't even seem to notice him standing there, hurrying down the stairs. Harry did not set off for the hospital wing, though. He had no intention whatsoever of going there. Sirius had told him what to do if his scar hurt again, and Harry was going to follow his advice: he was going straight to Dumbledore's office.

ΔOl

 _Is it still Halloween in the rest of the world? We just 'celebrated' it last night; as in I saw a speckling of kids dressed up and a bunch of adults in sloppily-done Day of the Dead sugar-skull makeup walking around, drunk out of their minds. We don't really celebrate Halloween much here, but it is catching on in comparison to what it was when I was a child._

 _Also it was James and Lily Potter's death anniversary. So, celebrate?_

 _See you on Wednesday! Review! xx_


	31. The Pensieve

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty –** _ **The Pensieve**_

The memory swirled around him. Harry watched as the skinny, pallid boy howled up at the Magistrates bench, the other accused Death Eaters silent as the boy who could be no older than nineteen pleaded up at them.

"I'm your son!" Barty Crouch Jr. screamed, his voice cracking, "I'm your son!"

"You are no son of mine!" bellowed Mr. Crouch, eyes bulging in their sockets, "I have no son!"

The wispy witch beside him that Harry assumed was Mrs. Crouch gave a gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed.

"Take them away!" Crouch roared at the dementors, spittle flying from his mouth, "Take them away, and may they rot there!"

"Father! Father, I didn't have anything to do with it! No, no! Father, please!"

Just as suddenly as the memory started, the swirls of colour fled past Harry, rushing around him like wet paint to fade into a new memory; he found himself crammed into the corner of a well-lit version of the same dungeon. Harry recognised Susan Bones, the current head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, from where she was seated at the front of the courtroom. He couldn't see who was standing trial however for the row of witches in front of him were all smartly dressed in tall, uniform pointed hats. His feet were planted firmly to the ground, and Harry was brought back to the time Dudley had glued his only pair of shoes to the floor. Harry hadn't gotten any supper that night.

Looking to his left, he saw that both Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody were seated next to him, the eye swivelling constantly in its socket.

"Look, I don't really think I'm right for this job..." a voice started from the centre of the dungeon. It was a very different voice from the one that continued to rattle around in Harry's head; it was still young and uncertain, but held an echoing strength of its own; nothing like the terrified screams of Barty Crouch Jr.'s as he had been dragged off by the dementors, crying out for his mother.

Susan Bones looked down at the figure on trial with a sharp eye, "But this is what you do, isn't it? Capture dark wizards?"

"W-well, yeah, but..." the voice stuttered tentatively.

Harry watched the haggard-looking Moody lean over to Dumbledore, "Typical," he hacked a soft laugh, "Less than a year out of the job and they're begging me to come back, just to watch Fudge shove some scrawny teenager around to try and make himself feel better," Harry looked up to see the Minister of Magic seated quite proudly to the right of Amelia Bones.

"I wouldn't think so lowly of Mr. Phantom if I were you, Alastor. He's shown exceeding potential in past events," Dumbledore rebutted.

Moody shook his head, "It's one thing to send a kid after a couple of low-life wannabe Death Eaters, it's something else to send him after someone as dangerous as Black."

"Of course you are correct, it _could_ be something else entirely. But whether that something be good or bad is perhaps what we should query."

Moody looked at him curiously before asking, "Why aren't you sitting with the rest of those old codgers in the Wizengamot?"

"Because this is not an official trial, my friend. Phantom is here merely under the request of the Ministry to lend a hand to the Aurors. However, Cornelius has decided that the boy has to stand for review first."

Harry craned his neck to try and see over the witches' hats at the mention of Danny Phantom, but whenever he tried they leant into one another and began to whisper excitedly. Harry flopped glumly back into his seat.

"Of course," Moody growled, "The man won't even cast a cleaning spell unless he's certain it'll be splayed all over the front page of the Prophet, praising him on how good a job he's done."

Dumbledore looked like he was about to respond when the sharp rap of a gavel pierced through the conversation, "All for having Daniel—"

"It's Danny," Harry heard the voice mutter.

"—Phantom inaugurated as a temporary affiliate of the British Department of Magical Law Enforcement, under agreement with the American Parliament of Magic?"

Many hands rose, those who didn't appeared to be mostly confused or worried looking witches and wizards. Harry spotted Crouch sneering down at the figure on the court floor from off to the side of the room, hands firmly held at his side. Much to Harry's surprise, Moody was one of the many that raised their hand.

"It's his funeral," was all he muttered at Dumbledore's (and unknowingly, Harry's) inquisitive stare.

Dumbledore tutted, "It's rather cruel to make fun of one's lack of mortality, isn't it?"

"All against?" The hands lowered to be replaced by the rest of the room's.

Bones knocked her gavel once more, "Very well, it is decided. Daniel Phantom, until further investigation you are to be classified as a dangerous creature and to be placed under probation until proven otherwise by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement..."

" _What?_ Hey! You can't just—! _"_

"...You are to refer to Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, every two weeks for the duration of your stay in Britain's magical community, with your sole focus being to capture Sirius Black who has been charged for the murder of thirteen..."

The room swirled again and Harry discovered himself back in Dumbledore's office, but it wasn't the same: it was night. An angry Danny Fenton was pacing his way across the room, veering close to Harry as he swept past before he turned to face Professor Dumbledore seated behind his desk.

"I found him hiding out in a muggle home in south Scotland. I didn't tell the Ministry – I mean, I haven't told anyone until now…" he said with a bit of reluctance. Harry watched as Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, "He wanted to talk, just a moment – to prove he was innocent…"

"And did you believe him?" Dumbledore asked.

Danny slumped into the chair opposite him, "Yeah, at the time I did. But now… I don't know. Maybe I should have just let the dementors deal with him – I can't find anything to prove what he said was true… Did I make the wrong choice? Maybe I just made everything worse."

Danny looked at Dumbledore who smiled, "I believe what you did was give a man the opportunity to explain himself, whether or not what Mr. Black said was true is a different matter. What you have shown to me is that you are truly benevolent; which I can assure you is a rare trait in these times."

Danny snorted, "I think it's a bit useless if I just set a murderer loose again. He stole my sandwich, did you know?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Hungry and greedy are two separate things, Danny. I believe we both know you made the right choice. Now, about what I asked of you earlier…"

A very solid hand rest itself on the crook of Harry's arm, "I believe, Harry, it is time to return to my office," said a quiet voice in Harry's ear.

Harry started. He looked around. Then he looked up.

There was Albus Dumbledore standing beside him, a carbon copy of the one seated at his desk, wearing a wan smile as he lightly gripped Harry's elbow.

"Come," said Dumbledore. Harry felt himself rising into the air; the room dissolved around him. For a moment all was blackness, and then his head spun as though he had done a slow-motion somersault, suddenly landing flat on his feet, in what seemed like the dazzling light of Dumbledore's sun-soaked office. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of him, and Dumbledore was standing beside him.

"Professor," Harry gasped, "I know I shouldn't've – I didn't mean – the cabinet door was sort of open and—"

Dumbledore raised a calming hand, "It's quite all right, Harry."

He lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry to sit down opposite him.

Harry did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.

"What is it?" Harry asked shakily.

"This? It's called a Pensieve," Dumbledore offered helpfully, "I sometimes find, and I'm sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

"Er," said Harry, who couldn't truthfully say that he had ever felt anything of the sort.

"At these times," Dumbledore gestured towards the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the stone basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

"You mean... that stuff's your thoughts?" Harry wrinkled his nose, staring down at the swirling white substance in the basin.

"Certainly," said Dumbledore, "Let me show you."

Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the wand away, hair seemed to be clinging to it – but then Harry saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve.

"My thoughts, as you saw, have become rather scattered. The memory you earlier witnessed was only last year – shortly after Mr. Black had made his miraculous escape from incarceration, subsequently the following was from just last week," Harry thought he saw a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye as he turned toward the basin, lowering the tip of his wand to it, letting the new thought twirl like spider silk with the others. He clasped his hands on the side of the Pensieve and gazed into the shallow depths and swirled it, rather like a gold prospector would pan for gold... and Harry, astonished, saw his own face emerging in the surface of the bowl, before changing smoothly into Snape's, who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.

"It's coming back... Karkaroff's too... stronger and clearer than ever..."

"A connection I could have made without assistance," Dumbledore sighed cryptically, "But never mind."

The water shifted again and Snape's hooked nose transformed into the handsome and straight one that sat comfortably on Danny Fenton's face; his voice echoed like the Potion Master's, and Harry thought he heard a familiar twinge in the sound.

"They're getting suspicious," a frantic-looking Danny said. He was waving a letter with the Ministry's seal, "They're saying I have to go in for weekly evaluations now – they've got someone new in now to write up some sort of legislation..." he glanced down at the letter in his hand, "Fudge's turned power over to someone called Umbridge... It says I've got an 'inspection' tonight; nine thirty, sharp... I don't know how long I can keep this up – you've got to help..."

The image dissipated in the whirlpool of memories. Dumbledore peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles at Harry, who was gaping at where Danny's petrified face had floated, "I was using the Pensieve when Mr. Fudge arrived for our meetings and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

Dumbledore shook his head, "Curiosity is not a sin," he said wisely, "But we should exercise caution with our curiosity... yes, indeed..."

Harry hesitated, thinking back to the ill-looking Danny he'd left in the North Tower, before he asked, "Sir, is Danny Fenton in some sort of trouble?"

Harry was surprised to see that Dumbledore looked very old when he met eyes with him, "That, Harry, is something I am very curious to know as well."

ΔOl

 _One of my favourite chapters. Gosh, it was difficult to keep it to 2000 words (I got 1999), but I had so much more to add! No more of these set word-limits after this story. That was awful. I could have easily gone onto three or four thousand…_

 _Finally Harry is getting a clue that not everything is hunky-dory in Danny's life… Dumbledore seems rather concerned about him as well. What has poor Danny done to himself besides let a possible murderer walk free out of compassion?_

 _Also, Umbridge. If she doesn't like centaurs and half-breeds, goodness knows how she would react if she found out what Danny was. But that's irrelevant and another story for another time._

 _Hopefully I'll have time to upload the next chapter on Sunday._

 _Enjoy and review! xx_


	32. The Third Task I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-One:** _ **The Third Task I**_

Breakfast on the morning of the final task was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table. The post owls appeared, bringing Harry a good-luck card from Sirius. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but Harry appreciated it all the same and instantly tucked it into his robes. A screech owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. With a sickle and a piece of toast for the owl, she unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

"What?" asked a surprised Harry and Ron together, staring at her.

"Nothing," said Hermione quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron snatched it out of her reach.

He stared at the headline and said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"What?" said Harry sarcastically, "Rita Skeeter again?"

"No," said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.

"It's about me, isn't it?" asked Harry.

"No," Ron repeated in an entirely unconvincing tone as Hermione meekly mumbled, "Not all of it."

But before Harry could demand to see the paper Draco Malfoy shouted from across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table, "Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

Malfoy was waving his own copy of the Daily Profit above his head, Slytherins up and down the table had turned from their own breakfasts to snigger in Harry's direction, twisting in their seats for a better view, waiting to see Harry's reaction.

"Let me see," Harry demanded, "Give it here."

Very reluctantly, Ron handed over the newspaper. Harry turned it over and found himself staring at his own picture, beneath the banner headline:

—

' _HARRY POTTER DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'_

 _The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not- Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behaviour, which questions if he is suitable to compete in a demanding competition like the Tetrawizard Tournament (formerly called the Triwizard Tournament), or even to attend Hogwarts School._

 _Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying._

 _It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo_ ' _s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion._

" _He might even be pretending,_ " _said one specialist,_ " _This could be a plea for attention._ "

 _The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public._

" _Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year, "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a duelling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."_

 _Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of_ _the Dark Force Defence League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue as "worthy of investigation."_

 _This reporter has delved deeper into the topic and has possibly discovered a horrific truth; Daniel Fenton, the handsome seventh year Tetrawizard Champion of the Casper Magical Seminary and Potter's rival in the Tournament, may have been the latest victim to his power-craze after recently being admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries regarding a poisonous snake bite, which left him in a highly unstable condition for over a week up until his release late yesterday. While both Daniel Fenton and St Mungo's staff have refused to comment, it seems more than obvious that Harry Potter's glory-filled desires should leave the remaining champions worried._

 _Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Tetrawizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening._

—

"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" Harry said lightly, folding up the paper.

Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were howling with laughter, tapping their foreheads and pulling grotesque faces, waggling their tongues like snakes.

"Danny was poisoned?" Hermione asked worriedly after reading the rest of the article over Harry's shoulder.

Harry looked down the length of the Gryffindor table, but the messy head of hair seemed to be missing.

"When d'you reckon he was bitten?" Ron asked bluntly, before hastily adding, "If the article was telling the truth, that is."

"It must've been after the night Crouch disappeared," Harry surmised, "I saw him after I left Divination; his leg was bandaged."

Hermione frowned, "And you didn't ask if he was all right?"

"I was a bit distracted then," Harry snapped back.

"D'you think he'll be able to make it to the last task then? It is tonight…" Ron asked.

"Oh, I hope so…" Hermione said, before realising her words, "Not that I'm hoping that you will lose, Harry! It's just that—"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I know, he's your friend."

"How did Skeeter know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron tugged the paper free from Harry's clenched fist, folding it open again, "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard—"

"The window was open," said Harry, "I opened it to breathe."

"You were at the top of North Tower!" cried Hermione, "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" Harry scowled, "You tell me how she did it!"

"I've been trying!" said Hermione, "But I… but…"

An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione's face. She slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Are you all right?" Ron frowned at her.

"Yes," Hermione breathed. She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held her hand up to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Harry and Ron glanced at one another.

"I've had an idea," Hermione said abruptly, "I think I know... because then no one would be able to see... even Moody... and she'd have to be able to get onto a window ledge... but she's not allowed... she's definitely not allowed... I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library – just to make sure!"

With that, Hermione leapt from her seat, seizing her school bag and scuttled out of the Great Hall.

"Oi!" Ron called out after her, "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," he turned back to Harry with confusion spelt out across his face, "She must really hate that Skeeter woman if she's willing to risk being late to an exam. What're you going to do in Binns's class – read some more?"

Harry shrugged. Exempt from all of the end-of-year exams, Harry had been spending the majority of his class time looking up any hexes he thought might be useful to him in the maze. He had nearly mastered the Impedimenta hex.

"S'pose so," Harry answered; but just then, Professor McGonagall came walking down the aisle separating Gryffindor and Hufflepuff toward him.

"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said firmly.

"But the task's not until tonight!" Harry cried, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.

"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said, "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them," she continued down the length of the table, towards Seamus Finnegan who'd set his toast on fire again. Harry gaped after her.

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" he asked Ron blankly.

"Dunno," said Ron, "Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later."

ΔOl

 _Poor Harry. Blamed for everything._

 _This is late because I'm exhausted. I'll update on Thursday instead of Wednesday so you don't have to wait all the length until Sunday since I made you wait two days extra._

 _This is pretty much just filler anyway. But we get a bit of an insight into the Wizarding World's views of Harry. Or at least Rita Skeeter's views – because she is definitely not biased or petty. That the last thing I'd synonymise with her._


	33. The Third Task II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-One:** _ **The Third Task II**_

The Great Hall was nearly empty by the time Harry had finished his breakfast. Students rushed from their seats as they made their way to either the library or exams. He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. Krum rose from the Slytherin table shortly afterward. Harry considered taking another piece of cold toast. He really didn't want to go into the chamber. He had no family – no family who would turn up to see him risk his life, anyway. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more research on hexes, the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.

"Harry, come on, they're waiting for you!"

Perplexed, Harry got up. The Dursley's couldn't possibly be here, could they? He walked across the Hall and slowly opened the door to the chamber. Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his father's hooked nose. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry shyly, who waved back, grinning. At the far end of the room he saw Danny crowded by his family; his parents were dressed in peculiar-coloured suits, both beaming proudly at him. A girl Harry supposed was his older sister was hidden behind Danny's father's massive girth, who on first glance Harry had thought might have been related to Hagrid. He glanced down at Danny's leg to find the bandage gone.

Harry was surprised when he suddenly found himself engulfed in a rather tight hug, "Mrs. Weasley?" He glanced over her shoulder to see Ron's older brother, Bill, holding back a snort at the look on his face.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly when she released him, "Thought we'd come and watch you, Harry!" she bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"You all right?" said Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand, "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail."

Both Fleur and Danny's sister, Harry noticed, were eyeing Bill with great interest over their mothers' shoulders. Harry could tell they had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley, "I thought for a moment – the Dursleys—"

"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips. She had always refrained from criticizing the Dursleys in front of Harry, but her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned.

"It's great being back here," said Bill, looking around the chamber, "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

"And the Fat Lady?" said Bill.

"She was here in my time," said Mrs. Weasley, "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning—"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" asked Bill.

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.

"Your father and I had been for a night time stroll," she said, "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle – he was the caretaker in those days – your father's still got the marks."

Bill smirked, "Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?"

"Yeah, okay," Harry sent a smirk back, and they made their way back toward the door leading toward the Great Hall. As they passed Amos Diggory, he looked around.

"There you are, are you?" he said, looking Harry up and down, "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's caught you up on points, are you?"

"What?" asked Harry, confused.

"Ignore him," said Cedric in a low voice to Harry, frowning after his father, "He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeters article about the Tetrawizard Tournament – you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion."

"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?" said Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Harry to hear as he started to walk out of the door, "Still… you'll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven't you?"

"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley called out angrily at his retreating back, "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"

Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away, walking out the door.

Mrs. Weasley scowled after him, "Don't listen to him, Harry, Diggory has always been petty. Imagine, trying to intimidate a child!"

Harry felt insulted at being called a child but shrugged it off and turned, only to run straight into what he thought was a bright orange wall, but on second inspection was actually the enormous torso of Danny Fenton's father. He looked down at Harry with a grin.

"Hey, Maddie!" he called out in a booming voice, "Come and take a look at this kid! He looks just like Danny-boy when he was young!"

His wife, matching in blue with large goggles planted on her face wandered over, "Why he certainly does. You must be Harry, Danny's told us about you."

"Hello," Harry stared at the couple as they offered their hands for him to shake, Danny's father's nearly engulfing his entire forearm.

Mrs. Weasley laid a hand on Harry's shoulder that was a little too tight to be comfortable and asked primly, "Hello, I'm Molly Weasley, and you are?"

Danny's father's smile spread impossibly further as he jutted a thumb at himself, "The name's Jack Fenton. The greatest ghost-catcher in the business!"

"And I'm Maddie Fenton. Are you Harry's mother?" the woman leaned forward, shaking Mrs. Weasley's hand, her goggle-wrapped eyes left her to resemble a goldfish as she stared unblinkingly at them.

Mrs. Weasley looked rather taken aback by the Fenton's heretical greeting, "Er... no, we're just—"

"Mum, dad, are we going? We've still got to find Tucker and visit the town before lunch," Danny strode over toward Harry, the red-haired girl trailing behind him.

Danny (who easily towered over Krum and Cedric) was dwarfed by Mr. Fenton's size, the top of his head not even coming to brush his father's nose; it was obvious he had inherited him mother's more willowy build.

"He said he was going to meet Sam by the lake. He wanted to meet the giant squid since he felt he missed out during the second task," the girl supplied helpfully. Danny shrugged in acceptance.

Mrs. Fenton ignored Danny's pressings and leant over to grasp his arm, dragging him toward Harry with an adoring smile, "Danny, why didn't you introduce us to Harry earlier?"

"He was busy with his friends," he said. Harry heard him mutter under his breath, "It's a thing called subtlety," earning a snigger from the girl behind him. He turned to Harry, "Sorry about the paper this morning – I don't even know how that Skeeter woman found out about my, er, incident..."

"How'd you get bitten by a snake, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Er..."

"Danny's always been accident-prone," the girl piped up. In the light Harry could see a strong resemblance between her and Danny, "Trouble practically haunts him," she giggled.

"Shut up, Jazz," Danny nudged his sister with his shoulder, grinning fondly.

Harry felt the stirrings of jealously fill him at the easy way Danny interacted with his family. His mother was still clutching his arm fondly as she talked with an uneasy Mrs. Weasley and a sniggering Bill, who was watching Mr. Fenton gesture wildly as he babbled on about an invention they had just recently completed. Danny's sister leant over and ruffled his hair, who gave a boyish grin back.

"Say, why don't you give us a tour?" Mr. Fenton called out in his booming voice, "Danny was just about to give us a bit of a show around the town!"

Jazz nodded, shyly glancing at Bill, "It would be nice to have someone who actually lives here guide us around…"

"Sure," Bill answered coolly. Harry hid a snort at the put-out look on Mrs. Weasley's face. Harry didn't mind, after hearing the stories from Fred and George he had been rather excited to meet Danny's parents, and they didn't disappoint. The Dursley's would have hated them. Mr. Weasley would have adored them.

The group stepped out of the chamber, Danny waving goodbye to Krum and Fleur (who looked disappointed that Bill was leaving so soon) and they made their way through the Great Hall out onto the grounds. A horseless carriage was waiting for them patiently, which Danny stared at oddly until Jazz poked him, and they all clambered in.

The ride was short, filled with rambunctious chatter as Mr. and Mrs. Fenton happily bounced ideas for inventions off the Weasley's. The carriage arrived at the school gates and the rag-tag bunch of wizards and muggles made their way toward Hogsmeade. Danny, after his sister had been drawn in by Bill's talk of curse-breaking, ended up beside Harry.

The two walked in silence, ignoring the gleeful shouts of Danny's parent's and Mrs. Weasley's long-suffering moans (which she waved off as "a slight spring cold, dearie, nothing to worry about" to a worried Mrs. Fenton as they stopped outside of The Magic Neep to look at the dancing turnips). Harry stared down at Danny's leg again, catching sight of two small white-pink scars seated on the back of his calf when his trouser leg shifted.

"How'd you get bitten?" Harry asked again.

Danny frowned, not looking at Harry, "Does it really matter?"

"Maybe," Harry challenged.

Danny gave a sigh not unlike Mrs. Weasley's, "I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be, happy?"

"Where did you go?" Harry probed, "Professor Dumbledore said that you had a meeting with the Ministry that night."

"How did you know that I—? Have you been _spying_ on me?" Danny didn't give Harry a chance to talk, waving him off with a scowl as he wandered toward the Shrieking Shack, "It doesn't matter, I just messed up is all. Got too comfortable, got bit."

"What about your hand?" Harry called out, causing Danny to stop.

Danny's ring finger on his left hand was withered like a skeleton's, painted a chalky-black, the poisonous colour had spread to the knuckle of his little finger.

Danny stared at his hand for a long time, looking like it held the answers to both life and death.

Harry was about to ask again when the older boy spoke, so low that he had to shuffle closer as he talked to his decrepit hand, "There were rumours about an old shack. I went to take a look… couldn't really say no, Ministry orders after all... There was a snake on the door… It had such a pretty ring…"

"A ring?" Harry asked.

"It… spoke to me…" Danny blinked, his eyes hazy, "It was _lonely_ … it wanted to be with its friends again… so I took it. It promised me things… dreams, desires… _power._ So I followed. But then it led me to the snake… its friend," Danny grimaced, "But it wasn't really a friend… it was so much worse…"

"Worse?" Harry felt his throat tighten.

But Danny seemed to come to his senses. Snapping his head up, he shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans and laughed, "It was just a silly little garden snake, nothing to worry about. Come on, I'm pretty sure the others are at Honeydukes. My dad is probably going crazy over the squealing fudge."

ΔOl

 _Did some minor fix-ups on this chapter due to it being so late when I posted it. Just makes it flow slightly better._

 _Don't you think Jazz and Bill would be an interesting couple? Imagine Molly Weasley's reaction if she got stuck with Jazz as a daughter-in-law instead of Fleur. She would not be happy whenever Jack and Maddie came to visit. Fred and George would be pretty happy with having Danny as a brother-in-law though, and Mr. Weasley would probably have a grand old time of it._

 _Review! x_


	34. The Third Task III

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-One:** _ **The Third Task III**_

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Tetrawizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each – Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" the cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky, "In second place – Mr. Daniel Fenton, of the Casper Magical Seminary!" more applause, "Now in third, we have Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" Bagman waited for the cheering to die down again, "And in fourth place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Harry could just make out Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. He waved at them, and they waved back, beaming at him. Mr. and Mrs. Fenton sat a little further up the stands with Danny's sister, Sam and Tucker. Mr. Fenton clapped Mrs. Weasley on the shoulder in good humour at Harry's name, though Mrs. Weasley looked like she had just sucked on one of Dumbledore's sherbet lemons.

"So on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" announced Bagman, "Three, two, one..."

He gave a sharp blast of his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.

Harry squinted to try and see the dark path as the hedges loomed over, and whether because they were so thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. Harry felt almost as though he were underwater again. A chill ran down his spine as they passed a bend, making Harry glance over his shoulder as he imagined glowing green eyes popping out from the dark.

"Lumos," Harry muttered quickly. He heard Cedric do the same just behind him.

After about fifty yards, they reached a fork. They looked at each other.

"See you," Harry said, and he took the left one, while Cedric took the right.

Harry heard Bagman's whistle for the second time. Danny had entered the maze. Harry sped up. His chosen path seemed completely deserted. He turned right, and hurried on, holding his wand high over his head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.

Bagman's whistle blew in the distance for a third time. Nearly all the champions had entered the maze.

Harry kept looking behind him. The old feeling that he was being watched was upon him. The blood rushing through his ears pounded in unison with his footsteps, both hastening as he glanced behind himself again. The maze was growing darker with every passing minute as the sky overhead turned to navy. He reached a second fork.

Laying his wand on his flattened palm, he whispered, "Point me."

The wand spun around once like a wayward compass and pointed to the right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and he knew he needed to go northwest for the centre of the maze. The best he could do was to take the left fork and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty too, and when Harry reached a right turn and took it, he again found his way unblocked. Harry didn't know why, but the lack of obstacles was unnerving him. Surely he should have met something by now? It felt as though the maze were luring him into a false sense of security. Then he heard movement right behind him. He held out his wand, ready to attack, but its beam fell only upon Danny, who had just hurried out of a path on the right-hand side.

Danny looked severely shaken. The hem of his sweater-vest was smoking.

"Those damned Exploding-Backside Newts!" he hissed, eyes wide.

Harry lowered his wand, "Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts?"

Danny nodded so furiously he looked like he had a nervous twitch, "I hate them! They're even bigger than last time I saw them – I only just got away!"

He patted down his sweater and dived out of sight, along another path. Keen to put plenty of distance between himself and the skrewts, Harry hurried off again. Then, as he turned a corner, he saw... a dementor gliding toward him. Twelve feet tall, its face hidden deep within its hood, its rotting, scabbed hands outstretched, it advanced sensing its way blindly toward him. Harry could hear its rattling breath; he felt the clammy coldness stealing over him, but knew what he had to do...

He summoned the happiest thought he could, concentrated with all his might on the thought of getting out of the maze and celebrating with Ron and Hermione, raised his wand and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver stag erupted from the end of his wand, trampling its way across the black grass and rammed into the dementor, which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes... Harry had never seen a dementor stumble.

"Hang on," Harry walked towards the fallen dementor, "You're a boggart! Riddikulus!"

There was a loud snap, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The glow of the stag faded into nothingness and Harry was left reluctantly alone again in the dark, he had hoped that the stag would stay with him… but he moved on, quickly and quietly as possible, listening hard, his wand held high once more.

Left… right… left again… Twice he found himself halting at a dead end, and was forced to turn back. He did the four-point spell again and found that he was going too far east. He turned back, took a right turn and saw a thick glistening fog seeping towards him like an icy noxious cloud.

Harry approached it cautiously, pointing the wand's beam at it. This looked like some kind of enchantment. He wondered whether he might be able to blast it out of the way.

"Reducto!" he cried.

The spell shot straight through the chilled mist, leaving it intact. He supposed he should have known better, the Reductor Curse was for solid objects. What would happen if he walked through the mist? Was it worth chancing it, or should he double back?

He was still hesitating when a scream shattered the silence.

"Fleur?" Harry called.

There was silence. He stared all around him. What had happened to her? Her scream seemed to have come from somewhere ahead. He took a deep breath and ran through the enchanted haze.

The ground crinkled under his feet as he ran, and he glanced down to see smatterings of ice, so fragile and thin that it resembled diamond dust. The hedges chimed in a dazzling song as the frozen leaves clinked together. The fog grew thicker, Harry raced forward, around a soft bend… and nearly ran straight into the horrible creature before him. There bearing down on him, nearly the size of Hagrid's house, was a chimaera, with the head of a lion, the body of a goat and a dragon's tail. Its four-inch long fangs were bared and its hackles raised... and it was frozen solid, like a strong gust of winter air had blown through and sealed it to its spot.

Shuffling carefully around the chimaera, nearly slipping on the ground, Harry pushed through the icy fog to be met a great rush of warm air that fell out of its muffling depths to another junction in the path. He looked around for some sign of Fleur. He was sure it had been she who had screamed. What had she met? Was she all right? There were no signs of red sparks – did that mean she had got herself out of trouble, or was she in such trouble that she couldn't reach her wand? Harry took the right fork with a feeling of increasing unease... but at the same time, he couldn't help but think; one champion down...

ΔOl

 _Bit of a cliffhanger, but since this part of the book is primarily Harry-orientated I thought I'd leave it short and sweet. Have you guys ever heard of a chimaera? They sound absolutely awful. Right up there with a minotaur in things I'm glad don't exist._

 _Review! Updates will be on Wednesday! x_


	35. The Third Task IV

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-One:** _ **The Third Task IV**_

Harry moved on, continuing to use the Four-Point Spell, making sure he was moving in the right direction. It was between him, Danny and Cedric now, His desire to reach the cup first was now burning stronger than ever, but he could hardly believe what he'd just seen Krum do. The use of an unforgivable Curse on a fellow human being meant a life term in Azkaban – that was what Moody had told them. Krum surely couldn't have wanted the Tetrawizard Cup that badly… Harry sped up.

Every so often he hit more dead ends, but the increasing darkness made him feel sure he was getting near the heart of the maze. Then, as he strode down a long, straight path, he saw movement once again, and his beam of wand light hit an extraordinary creature, one which he had only seen in picture form, in his Monster Book of Monsters.

It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great paws and a long yellowish tail in a brown tuft, which was flicking lazily. Its head, however, was a woman. She was seated in front of the pacing figure of Danny, blocking his path.

"Tell me the riddle again? From the start," Danny murmured.

Harry saw the sphinx's almond-shaped eyes roll over towards Harry before turning back to Danny and reciting:

—

"First think of something that is near never seen,

To describe something small, to the eye just a glean.

Next tell me a letter with which none of the five have flowed,

It does not mark the spot, merely forms the crossroad.

And finally; does the cent make sense when it is not in the centre?

It is the search towards the end with which people flounder.

Now line them up, and the answer you make,

Will tell you; which creature can death not take?"

—

Harry shuffled closer as Danny ran his hands down his face with a groan.

"'None of the five letters'… could it be vowels? So it's a consonant… 'Marks the spot' – like treasure? 'X' marks the spot! Oh, hold on, it's not 'X', but it looks like it?"

Harry walked up next to Danny who grinned weakly at him, warily watching the sphinx.

"What are you doing?" Harry whispered to Danny, watching the Sphinx flick its tail lazily.

"She won't let me through unless I answer right. I've only got one shot, otherwise…" Danny slashed a thumb across his throat dramatically. He looked rather pale in the shadows; his breathing rattled in his chest and sweat seemed to be accumulating on his forehead. There were deep shadows under his eyes that Harry swore hadn't been there that morning.

Harry quickly looked away before Danny could see and turned to study the sphinx, who flicked her tail lazily with a patient expression. Danny shrugged.

"I haven't got a clue," the older boy admitted, clapping Harry on the shoulder resignedly. Harry saw that his entire hand had turned a crippled black, spreading like wildfire past his forearm to his elbow. He could see the veins were tinged a soft purple.

Danny noted Harry's pointed stare, slipping his hand off his shoulder and stuffed it behind his back, before throwing on a practised grin and cheerily stating, "She's all yours, Harry!"

Danny twisted and ran through a passage to his left and disappeared from sight. Harry turned back to the sphinx, who had risen from her seat and was wandering back and forth along the path, stopping Harry from slipping past. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"So… so will you move, please?" asked Harry, already knowing what the answer was going to be.

"No," her pace quickened, "Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess – I let you pass. Answer wrongly – I attack. Remain silent – I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

Harry's stomach slipped several notches. It was Hermione who was good at this sort of thing, not him. He weighed his chances. If the riddle was too hard, he could keep silent, like Danny did, get away from the sphinx unharmed, and try to find an alternate route to the centre.

"Okay, what was the riddle again? Something about never being seen?"

The sphinx shook her head, "No, you shall get a new riddle."

"Oh," Harry mumbled, "Okay. Can I hear it then?"

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, just as she had earlier, and recited:

—

"First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

Next, tell me what's always been the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of end?

And finally give me the sound often heard,

During the search for a hard-to-find-word.

Now string them together, and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"

—

ΔOl

 _My whole life is late right now. Completely over university._

 _Can any of you guys guess the answer to Danny's riddle? It's a bit of a toughie considering I am rather awful at writing riddles. I am certainly no Bilbo Baggins. I'll reveal the answer and break it down for those who did not get it in the next chapter, so give me your guesses! (To make it easier, I'll let you know that it is ghost-related – aren't I so stupidly clever? Well… more just plain stupid, but I love a good bit of irony.)_

 _Also shout-out to RandomCitizen, who reviewed nearly every chapter in the span of just a few hours. Dedication, my friend. My junk mail is stuffed with notifications now, thank you._

 _Review! x_


	36. The Third Task V

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-One:** _ **The Third Task V**_

The Tetrawizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away. Harry struggled to quicken his pace, his breath coming out in short, sharp painful bursts as he shoved himself forward, further away from where the sphinx had let him pass. Suddenly a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of him – dressed in black and yellow was the burlier figure of the other Hogwarts champion careening towards the plinth.

Cedric was going to get there first. Cedric was sprinting as fast as he could toward the cup, and Harry knew he would never catch up, Cedric was much taller, had much longer legs—

Then Harry saw something immense over a hedge to his left, moving quickly along a path that intersected with his own; it was moving so fast Cedric was about to run into it, and Cedric, his eyes on the cup, had not seen it—

"Cedric!" Harry bellowed, "On your left!"

Cedric looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing, narrowly avoiding being impaled by one of its large, spindly, hairy legs – but in his haste, he tripped.

"Stupefy!" Harry roared. The spell hit the spider's gigantic furry body, but it was about as effective as tossing a rock at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around and ran at Harry instead.

"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!"

It was useless – the spider was either so large, or so magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating it. Harry had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon him.

Its front legs lifted him high into the air; struggling madly. He tried to kick it; his leg connecting with the deadly pincers and next moment he was in excruciating pain. He could hear Cedric yelling "Stupefy!" too, but the spell was no more powerful than Harry's, making it stomp its remaining legs, piercing the craggy earth. Cedric fell onto his back with a shout, his wand flying from his hand and out of sight.

Harry raised his wand as the spider opened its pincers once more and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

It worked – the Disarming Spell made the spider drop him, but that meant that Harry fell twelve feet onto his already injured leg, which crumpled beneath him. Without pausing to think, he aimed high at the spider's underbelly, as he had done with the skrewt, and shouted, "Stupefy!" The spider reeled back with a high-pitched clicking noise, stumbling on its legs before charging at Harry again.

"Get out of the way!" a voice called.

A beam of green light flew at the spider, colliding with it and sending it flying into a nearby hedge with a screech, legs flailed weakly, the ones closest to Harry threatening to nick (or decapitate) him before they reluctantly curled into its body, dead.

Harry looked down the path leading to the cup to see Danny rushing towards him, "Harry!"

"Harry!" he heard Cedric shout, "Are you all right? Did it fall on you?"

"No," Harry looked down at his leg. It was bleeding freely. He could see some sort of thick, gluey secretion from the spider's pincers on his torn robes. He tried to get up, but his leg was shaking badly and did not want to support his full weight. Danny tossed an arm across his shoulder and Cedric, who had seemed to find his wand, took his other side and helped him to his feet.

"Where's your wand? I don't know any healing spells," Cedric told Danny, sounding winded.

Danny grimaced, "I lost it to a chimaera a while back."

"So that was _wandless_ magic just then?" Cedric asked incredulously.

Danny's ears burned a deep red before he mumbled something undiscernible.

Leaning heavily on Cedric, Harry looked around. Danny was standing feet from the Tetrawizard Cup, which was gleaming behind him.

"Take it, then," Harry panted to Danny, "Go on, take it. You're there."

But Danny didn't move. He just stood there, looking at Harry. Then he turned to stare at a despondent Cedric, then the spider, and then the cup – Harry saw his longing expression in its golden light. Danny looked at Harry again, who was now grasping at the hedge Cedric had leaned him on like a lifeline. Danny took a deep breath.

"One of you should take it. You guys were here before me."

"That's not how it's supposed to work!" Harry said in a strained voice. He was angry; his leg was very painful, he was aching all over from trying to throw off the spider, and after all his efforts, both Danny and Cedric had beaten him to it, just as Cedric had beaten Harry to asking Cho to the ball. Just as Danny had beaten Harry with having the family he had always dreamed of, "The one who reaches the cup first gets the points. That's you. If you hadn't helped me and Cedric with the spider, you would have won. I'm telling you, I'm not going to win any races on this leg, so it's between you and him."

Danny took a few paces nearer to the dead spider, away from the cup, shaking his head. Cedric did the same.

"No," they said in unison.

"Stop being noble," said Harry irritably, "Just one of you take it, then we can get out of here."

Danny and Cedric watched Harry steady himself, holding tight to the hedge.

"You told me about the dragons," Cedric said, "I would've gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."

"I had help on that too," Harry snapped, trying to mop up his bloody leg with his robes, "You helped me with the egg – we're square."

"I had help on the egg in the first place," said Cedric.

"Let Danny have it then!" Harry yelled.

"It's not mine. I've… well, I wouldn't say it's 'cheating', but… Anyway, I didn't even want to be in the tournament in the first place," Danny pointed out.

"You should've got more points on the second task," Cedric continued telling Harry mulishly, "You stayed behind to get all the hostages. I should've done that."

"I was the only one who was thick enough to take that song seriously!" said Harry bitterly, "Just one of you take the cup!"

"No," they said again.

Cedric stepped over the spider's tangled legs to join Harry, who stared at him. Cedric was serious. He was walking away from the sort of glory Hufflepuff House hadn't had in centuries. Danny came to a stop beside him, his face just as stony – the ability to prove that muggleborns were just as magically capable as the rest of the wizarding community was slipping right through his stubborn ash-inked fingers.

"Go on," Cedric urged. He looked as though this was costing him every ounce of resolution he had, but his face was set, his arms were folded, he seemed decided.

Danny, for all his talk of not wanting to have competed seemed to be suffering just as much as Cedric, copying his pose, thought his mottled arm twitched.

Harry looked from the two of them to the cup. For one shining moment, he saw himself emerging from the maze, holding it. He saw himself holding the Tetrawizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Cho's face shining with admiration, more clearly than he had ever seen it before... and then the pictures faded, and he found himself staring at Cedric and Danny's shadowy, stubborn faces.

"The three of us," Harry proposed.

"What?"

"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it. Oh, and Casper."

Danny stared at Harry. He unfolded his arms, "You— you sure?"

"Yeah," Harry said boldly, "Yeah, we've all helped each other out a lot, haven't we? We all got here. Let's just take it together."

For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split in a grin, "It used to be called the Triwizard Cup, after all – what better way to end it than with a three-way tie, eh?"

Danny grinned back, "You're on," he said, "Come here."

Together, Cedric and Danny were able to pull Harry to his feet. Looping each of his arms around their shoulders, they helped Harry limp toward the plinth where the cup stood.

When they reached it, they each held a hand out over the cup's gleaming handles.

"On three, right?" told Harry, "One, two, three—"

He, Cedric and Danny grasped a handle.

Instantly, Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet left the ground. He could not unclench his hand holding the Tetrawizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling colour, Cedric and Danny at his side.

ΔOl

 _A lot of people were not only trying to guess the answer to my riddle but also Harry's. I'm assuming that these people either haven't read the books or can't quite remember the answer so I'll break it down:_

—

First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

—

 _The answer to this part of the riddle is a 'spy'._

—

Next, tell me what's always been the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of end?

—

 _This is a literal clue, the middle letter of the word 'middle' is 'd', same with 'end' and 'mend' finishing with 'd'._

—

And finally give me the sound often heard,

During the search for a hard-to-find-word.

—

 _This could have been an array of sounds, but J. K. Rowling's most commonly used onomatopoeia is 'er'._

—

Now string them together, and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?

—

 _In result we get the word 'spider'._

 _For Danny's riddle I'll do the same:_

—

First think of something that is near never seen,

To describe something small, to the eye just a glean.

—

 _For something that is near never seen, it describes something miniscule, something baring on microscopic, or something small in the distance, otherwise known as a 'spec'._

—

Next tell me a letter with which none of the five have flowed,

It does not mark the spot, merely forms the crossroad.

—

 _As Danny figured out from 'the five have flowed' the letter is a consonant. A letter similar to the letter 'x' is the letter 't', which looked at on an alternate perspective can be seen in a crossroad._

—

And finally; does the cent make sense when it is not in the centre?

It is the search towards the end with which people flounder.

—

 _This one is pretty obvious, as it follows a similar pattern to J. K. Rowling's; if you literally take the word 'cent' out of centre, you are left with the letters 're'._

—

Now line them up, and the answer you make,

Will tell you; which creature can death not take?"

—

 _Placed all together the answer to Danny's riddle is the word 'spectre'. Congratulations for everyone who guessed correctly (ShadowPillow, AnonymousAndrea, Jaakusan, The Alien of Pluto, Angela and MermaidHorse). Good tries from everyone else, got a range including ghosts, halfas, phoenix (very intelligent guess) and for one strange reason someone answered Skulker…_

 _Review, you all know what is coming next… maybe. x_


	37. Flesh, Blood and Bone

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-Two:** _ **Flesh, Blood and Bone**_

The sickly feeling of spinning stopped just as fast as it started and Harry felt his injured leg collide heavily with the ground, making him collapse to his knees and the Tetrawizard Cup fly out of his hands. He raised his head.

"Where are we?"

Cedric shook his head, pulling Harry up to his feet. They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously travelled miles – perhaps hundreds of miles – for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a yew tree on their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the shape of a fine old house on his left.

Cedric looked down at the Tetrawizard Cup and then at Harry.

"Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" he asked.

"Nope," said Harry. He looked around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie, "Do you think this is part of the task?"

"I don't know," Cedric replied, "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," Harry was glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.

Pulling out their wands, Harry kept looking around himself. He had a strange feeling of being watched.

Cedric's voice made him jump as he cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled, "Oi, Danny! Where are you?"

A soft rustle came from in the shadows. Harry squinted through the darkness as a shape drew nearer, walking steadily between the graves. The figure was much shorter than Danny, hunched over as if they were carrying something precious. Harry couldn't make out a face, they were wearing a heavy cloak that was pulled up over their head, obscuring them from sight. And – several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time – Harry saw the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

"I don't think that's Danny," Harry whispered, glancing up to match Cedric's quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second Harry and Cedric and the short figure stared at each other.

And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he'd never felt in his life. His wand slipped from his fingers as he crumpled to his knees; his hands wrenching at his forehead as if he could suffocate the pain; it was so strong that he couldn't see anything, he could barely hear.

From far away, above his head, he heard a high cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

A swishing sound and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night:

"Avada Kedavra!"

" _Watch out!_ "

A blast of green light filtered through Harry's eyelids, followed shortly with a flash of white, making his eyes well up in tears with the burning sensation, and then he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him, rolling across the grass to land with a dull _thud_ , followed shortly by something else dropping a little further away. The pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then, slowly, it disappeared. Frightened of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes.

Cedric lay face-down,off to the side at the base of a tombstone; there was a dark liquid seeping onto the grave where his head lay. Danny lay a few feet further, eagle-spread on the ground.

They were dead.

For a second that contained an eternity, Harry stared into Danny's turned face, at his large blue eyes, blank and staring unseeingly at both Harry and Cedric's own unmoving body, his mouth lax and half-open, as if he'd simply gotten a nasty surprise. And then, before Harry's mind had accepted what he was seeing, before he could feel anything but numb disbelief, he felt himself being pulled to his unstable feet.

The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and (with a hiss of confusion in Danny's direction and a sharp kick in Cedric's side) was dragging Harry toward a marble headstone. Harry saw the name flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.

TOM RIDDLE.

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from the neck to ankles to the headstone. Cedric was lying a whiles away; he could see the gash on his head still seeping and Harry desperately wished that the wind tugging on the boy's shirt was his deep breathing. Harry struggled from the hooded figure's grasp, and the man hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realised who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.

"You!" he gasped.

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of black material from the inside of his coat and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Harry and hurried away, tripping over Danny whose dull eyes didn't wince. Harry couldn't make a sound, nor could he see where Wormtail had gone; he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the stone; he could only see in front of him.

Danny's body was lying beside Cedric's some twenty feet away, Beyond them, glinting in the starlight, lay the Tetrawizard Cup with Harry's wand on the ground at Danny's feet. Wormtail's bundle of robes was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again... and he suddenly didn't want to see what was in those robes…

He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, tongue flitting as it trailed past Danny, hissing furiously and spitting venom furiously before continuing to circle the headstone where he was tied. Wormtail grunted in the dark; it sounded as if he was dragging something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's range of vision, and Harry saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the gravesite. It was full of what seemed to be water – Harry could hear it slopping around – and it was larger than any cauldron Harry had seen; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground stirred more persistently. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the base with a wand, pointedly not looking in Harry or the thing's direction. Suddenly there were crackling flames beneath the cauldron. The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat at an accelerated pace, bubbling and sending out fiery sparks, as though it was so hot that the liquid was aflame. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robe seemed more agitated. Harry heard the same high, cold voice from within the bundle,.

"Hurry!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready Master."

"Now…" said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled by the cloth gagging him.

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind – but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face as he carried the creature to the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing across the potion's surface. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft _thud_.

 _Let it drown_ , Harry begged, his scar searing, _please… let it drown…_

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; sending sparks in all directions and turned a poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into sobs.

"Flesh - of the servant… w-willingly given… you will… revive… your master."

He stretched his right hand out in front of him – the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger tightly with is left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened – he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash as something was dropped into the cauldron.

Harry couldn't stand to look… but the bright red light of the potion shone through Harry's closed eyelids…

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Then Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath puff against his face. Wormtail stood right in front of him.

"B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe."

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly… Struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down his torn sleeve. Wormtail, still panting with pain, fumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

Staggering back to the cauldron with Harry's blood, he poured it inside. The liquid within turned a blinding white. Wormtail dropped to his knees beside the cauldron and slumped sideways onto the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, sobbing.

The cauldron glimmered as diamond sparks fluttered, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened…

 _Let it have drowned,_ Harry thought, _let it have gone wrong…_

And then, suddenly, the sparks extinguished and a surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Danny or Cedric or anything but vapour… _it's gone wrong_ , he thought… _it's drowned… please… please let it be dead…_

But then, through the fog, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising from inside the cauldron.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry… and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils…

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

ΔOl

 _Yeah. Sorry. Kind of had to kill Danny. Despite what people thought, Danny isn't impervious to the death-spell. He is half-alive after all. Well… he was._

 _Sorry._

 _I missed last Wednesday's update, annoyingly. I didn't mean to, but next thing I knew it was Saturday evening and I had a whole half-chapter to edit and expand upon. Hopefully this makes up for it, but I doubt people will be very happy with me._

 _Review, I'll see you Wednesday. x_


	38. Prior Incantatem I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-Four:** _ **Prior Incantatem I**_

Harry crouched behind the headstone, his body aching from the after-effects of Voldemort's Cruciatus curse, he knew the end was coming closer. There was no hope left. Surrounded by Death Eaters with Cedric and Danny lying helpless mere feet away, Harry could hear Voldemort's teasing lilt as another spell crashed into his father's grave with a loud _crack!_

As he heard the Dark Lord approaching, Harry looked into Danny's blank ever-staring eyes and made a decision. It was beyond all fear and reason: he was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet... he was going to die upright like his father, he was going to die doing what was right like Danny, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defence was possible...

Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the side of the stone, Harry gripped his wand tightly, stood up and, without any true thought or plan, threw himself out from behind the headstone, wand flung out in front of him.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry cried, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort snarled, "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand at the same time a spear of red blasted from Harry's – the spells collided mid-air, and Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it; his hand seizing up around it, he couldn't have released it if he wanted to – a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Harry, following the beam with an astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers were also snatched tightly around his wand that was shaking so violently that it looked to be trying to buck him off.

And then – nothing could have prepared Harry for this – he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They glided away, as if blown by the wind, away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and came to rest in a clearing free of graves... The Death Eaters that had appeared not long ago were shouting, they were asking Voldemort for instructions with their wands pointed at Harry; they were closing in, reforming the circle. Voldemort's snake slithered across the ground, its scales glinting in the warm light, to settle near Voldemort's heels, baring its fangs at Harry.

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams burst free, ravelling around the two to weave itself into a golden, dome-shaped web – a cage of light – beyond which the Death Eaters circled like hungry hyenas, their cries sounding far away and stifled...

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw the astonishment he felt in his eyes reflect at the snakelike man's own. He was fighting to break the thread of light still connected to Harry's, his spindly fingers struggling to release his wand. Harry held on to his own wand more tightly, with both hands, and the gold thread remained unbroken, "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort spat at the Death Eaters.

The threads quivered, as through an unseen being had begun to play them like a harp, and an enchanting sound filled the air; unearthly and beautiful it suffocated Harry, the beautiful sound sinking into every pore. It was a sound Harry recognised, though he had heard it only once before in his life: phoenix song.

It was the sound of hope to Harry... the most beautiful and welcoming thing he had ever heard in his life... the song trilled ever louder, drowning out the angry cries of the Death Eaters just outside the dome and Voldemort's angry snarls. The song spoke to him, whispering gently in his ear...

 _Don't break the connection._

 _I know..._ Harry told the music, _I know I mustn't..._ but no sooner had he thought it, than the beam of light became much harder to control. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever... and now the jet between him and Voldemort changed too... beads of pure light, like water droplets, poured from the centre of the thread and began to slide up and down its length. Harry felt his wand give a shudder as the light beads began to slide steadily his way... the direction of the beams movement was now toward him, away from Voldemort, the thread becoming more tumultuous in nature as his wand shuddered angrily...

As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry's wand, he could feel a burning heat sear at his fingertips, the wood of his wand growing so hot he was worried it was going to burst into flame. The globule of light was edging closer now, his wand vibrating ever-harder and Harry was worried that his wand would not survive if the bead made contact; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers—

Squaring his shoulders, he concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed... and slowly (too slowly for Harry's peace of mind) the row of droplets began to slither their way back up the string... and it was Voldemort's wand that began to rattle extra-hard now, Harry's cooling dramatically with the loss of pressure. He didn't know why he was doing it. Voldemort looked astonished, almost fearful, as one of the beads of light closed in, only inches away from the tip of his wand.

Harry pressed further, focussing harder than he ever had in his life... the glowing bead was edging closer, making Voldemort release a feral snarl and shove back. But it was all in vain; the golden dew drop was too close now... and slowly, very slowly, Voldemort's wand gave a final tremor as the bead collided...

At once, his wand began to emit echoing screams of pain... then, a sound reached Harry's ears that he had never wanted to hear again, driving out the phoenix song's soothing call and sending a shiver running down his spine; it was the call of the creature with the haunting green eyes in the lake... Voldemort's face contorted into one of pain as he tried to block out the noise, though his and Harry's hands were still welded to their wands, before his red eyes widened in shock – a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished... the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail sacrifice... more shouts of pain, barely decipherable underneath the hollowing wail... and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip, a great, greyish something, that looked as if it were made of the solidest, densest smoke... it was a head... now a chest and arms... the torso of an old man.

If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then. But instinct kept him clutching it tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even though the thick grey ghost of the old man (was it a ghost? It looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Voldemort's wand, as though it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel... The shade stood up with the aid of a walking cane, looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

"He's a real wizard then?" it asked, "Killed me, that one did... you fight him, boy."

Its voice was distant and echoing. Harry looked at Voldemort... his eyes still wide... he had no more expected this than Harry had... and, very dimly, Harry heard the frightened yells of the Death Eaters prowling around the edges of the golden dome... More screams of pain erupted from the wand... and then something else emerged from the end of the wand just as the old man did... and this head, grey as a smoky statue, was a woman's... Harry, both arms shaking from exhaustion as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up, staring...

"Don't let go now!" Bertha Jorkins cried, and her voice echoed like the old man's, as though from very far away, "Don't let him get you, Harry – don't let go!"

The shades began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, much like the Death Eater's outside did... and Voldemort's dead victims whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words he couldn't hear at Voldemort. And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand... and Harry knew when he was who it would be... he knew, as though he had expected it from the moment when the old man emerged from the wand... knew, because the man appearing was one he thought of more than any other tonight...

The murky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him... and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.

"Your mother's coming..." he said quietly, "She's just collecting _him._ She wants to see you... it will be all right... hold on..."

And she came... first her head, then her body... a young woman with long hair, the smoky form of Lily Potter bloomed from the end of Voldemort's wand in a beautifully macabre dance, and fell to the ground, shortly straightening like her husband and rushed to Harry's side. She looked down at him, and she spoke in the same distant voice as the others had, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear...

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments... don't worry, he will help you... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts... do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding between his fingers.

"He is coming," Harry's father whispered urgently from his other side, "Be ready to run..."

Harry swore the ground shook under his feet as another howl emerged from Voldemort's wand, the wailing that threaten to pierce his eardrums burst forth in a blinding shock of gold. Voldemort snarled as cracks trickled down his wand like ravines, light seeping violently from the crevices, before the wand exploded, sending slivers of wood in every direction and a hand, gloved in white and too solid to simply be a shade, torpedoed out of the tip, followed quickly by a head and torso.

Harry bit back a cry as the body floated in the air, hovering over the fading golden thread. Voldemort stared aghast at the boy, whose white hair matched the glow that enshrouded him like a beacon; his black-suited body still too solid with healthy colour leaking through his exposed skin. Danny Fenton turned disastrous green eyes on Harry and shouted, "Do it now!"

" _Now!_ " Harry yelled; he didn't think he could have held on for another moment, anyway – he pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread that had been clinging to what was left of Voldemort's wand snapped; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died... but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear – they were closing in on Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze—

A hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Harry felt himself being tugged in the other direction, away from his parents and Voldemort.

"Come on, we have to go," Danny said.

ΔOl

 _I can't believe how many of you actually believed I killed off Danny. Really. You should know by now all I do is lie; updates, schedules… They're all complete tosh._

 _Review! Next update is on Sunday (unless it turns out I'm lying again)! x_


	39. Prior Incantatem II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-Four:** _ **Prior Incantatem II**_

Harry ran as he had never run in his life. The sharp pain in his injured leg slipped into the far corners of his mind as he knocked two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling the curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones – he was dodging curses and graves, guided by the iridescent glow permeating from Danny as he flew over him; tossing beams of green and blue light back at the Death Eaters, who would fall with a cry each time they were hit. Harry dodged a purple curse and pelted his way across the grounds toward the cup, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do—

"Your wand, Wormtail! Give me your wand! I'll kill him myself!" he heard Voldemort scream.

Ten feet from the cup, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as spells hit it. He was stuck. He could see the cup illuminated by red only a few bounds away as the Death Eaters closed in, Voldemort's triumphant cackle filling the sky.

The air wavered in front of Harry then and, from nowhere, a translucent sheet of green surrounded him. Danny stood in front of the angel, arms raised with a look of determination as dark spells bounced off the shield. Voldemort's laughter turned into a screech of fury.

"Take Cedric back to his family, he can't make it on his own," Danny said through gritted teeth, the tendons in his neck taut with the strain, "Do it quick. I can't hold the barrier for much longer."

"Cedric? He's still alive?"

"He'll have a nasty headache when he wakes up, but—" Danny flinched as a powerful spell ricocheted off his shield, "—he'll be okay."

"What about you? I can't just leave you here!" Harry, glanced from the glowing figure of Danny in front of him to his crumpled body lying near the grave. He was pulled from his thoughts as a purple curse flew past Danny's ear right through the shield, shattering it.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me!"

"But—" Harry started.

" _Move!_ "

Gripping his wand more tightly, Harry dashed out from behind the angel, out of the boundaries of Danny's barrier—

"Impedimentia!" he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him. From a muffled yell, he thought he had halted at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; eclectic cries came from behind him, and Harry found that the curses had all but near halted biting at his heels as he watched green light filter past the corner of his eye – he jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him and more spells flew wildly around him, a jet of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Cedric's arm...

Harry froze as a hiss escaped from the dark. Voldemort's snake weaved its way through the grass as nothing but a sparkling of scales at a frightening speed, fangs dripping with poison. He couldn't move in fear of found by Voldemort, and he couldn't leave Cedric to be bitten and die.

The earth exploded in a flurry of green light, sending the giant snake careening off its path. It twisted and hissed in pain as half a foot of its tail crumbled off in a cloud of ash, smoking heavily. Harry looked up to find what appeared to be duplicates of Danny hovering around a shimmering green dome; Death Eaters were trapped in the middle, mindlessly flinging out dark curses to break through the barrier and set themselves free, more than one wayward spell deflecting onto their comrades, knocking them unconscious or making them cry out in pain. Voldemort stood within the centre of the ovoid, violently slashing at the transparent wall, his malformed face twisted into a horrific snarl, red eyes flaring like beacons.

Harry, distracted, didn't see the snake until it had already leapt at him, making him scream, when thousands of slivers of ice pierced their way through the dry, warm earth, curling around the cold-blooded creature and binding it in place like a morbid ice-sculpture. It hissed and writhed as if the ice burnt it, struggling to break free.

"Go home, Harry," the real Danny floated above him, watching the snake writhe in its bindings. Harry looked over at Danny's lifeless body and shook his head.

"I can't just leave you!"

"You have to. If you stay here, you could die."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Danny pressed on, "Do you know why wraiths are considered such dark creatures?" he didn't give Harry a chance to respond before he spat out angrily, "It's because, unlike a Phoenix, wraiths are born from death. They don't die, because they already have. They're cursed with immortality. But sometimes, they're not born. Sometimes they're made."

"I-I don't understand," Harry said.

A sharp crack made the pair turn around. Danny's duplicates popped away as curses collided with them, and the Death Eaters cheered triumphantly before Voldemort shoved them aside, screeching, "Get out of the way! I will kill him! He is mine!"

Danny turned blazing eyes to Harry, "You have to leave, now!" he shouted, his voice trembling before he zipped off deeper into the graveyard, bright flashes of spells on his tail.

Harry snatched up Cedric's wrist, feeling a dull pulse echo from underneath his skin. Cedric's face was pale, but he could feel the puffs of air spread across his face with each of the older boy's breaths. Then, out of the night Voldemort strode forward; one tombstone stood between him and Harry now. Danny was too far away to help now, fighting the Death Eaters, and Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach—

Voldemort's eyes burned in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand. He stared one last time into Danny's dull eyes. If he just reached that little bit further, he could...

"Accio!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Tetrawizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle—

He heard Voldemort scream in fury at the same time he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked – it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind, and Cedric along with him. He watched as the graveyard quickly disappeared, Danny's body lying on the ground looking smaller and smaller before he simply became a blur of dizzying colour... They were going back.

ΔOl

 _I am so angry at myself. I completely forgot this chapter._

 _Whatever, I'll replace the previous chapter tomorrow with the new one. Dammit._


	40. Veritaserum I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-Five:** _ **Veritaserum I**_

The ground met Harry hard. He slammed into the earth, his face pressing into the grass; the smell of it filled his nostrils. He had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported him, Danny's deserted body still etched in the forefront of him mind, and he kept them closed now. He did not move. All the breath seemed to be knocked out of him; his head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath him was swaying like the world was threatening to tilt him right off. To hold himself steady, he tightened his hold on the two things he was still clutching: the smooth, cold handle of the Tetrawizard Cup and Cedric's body. He focussed on the steady and low breathing of the older boy now, feel the blood pump weakly through Cedric's veins. Relief spread through him even as he felt the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain, threatening to slide him off if he let go of either of them. Shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, breathing the smell of the dirt, waiting... waiting for someone to do something... something to happen... and all the while, his scar burned dully on his forehead...

A torrent of sound deafened and confused him; there were voiced everywhere, footsteps and screams... He remained where he was, his face screwed up against the noise as it threatened to upheave his morbid peace, as if it were a nightmare that would pass... Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over...

"Harry! Harry!"

He opened his eyes.

But instead of staring into haunting green or dull blue, he found himself looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was hovering over him. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberate with their footsteps.

He had come back to the edge of the maze. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars overhead.

Harry forced his fingers to unfurl from the cup's handle, but he clutched Cedric to him more tightly. He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, his eyes swimming in and out of focus.

"He's back," Harry whispered, "Voldemort's back."

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Harry; it looked white, appalled.

"My God – Diggory!" he whispered, "Dumbledore – he's dead!"

"He is not dead, Cornelius," Dumbledore said evenly, "Mr. Diggory appears to merely be unconscious."

Fudge looked relieved, before he asked, looking around, "Well, where is Fenton then?"

Dumbledore and Fudge stared down at Harry. He could feel bile rising in the back of his throat; all he could do was weakly shake his head. The Headmaster looked solemnly down at him before turning to Fudge.

"Can you collect Mr. Fenton's family from the stands along with his Headmaster? I think it may be best for them to reside in Professor McGonagall's office for the time being."

While the words had never been uttered, the whispers had already fled into the air and the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them... and then others shouted it – screeched it – into the night—

"He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Danny Fenton! Dead!"

"Harry, let go of Cedric," he heard Fudge's voice say, who seemed to have ignored Dumbledore's request. Harry felt fingers trying to pry him from Cedric's limp body, but he wouldn't let him go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer.

"Harry, we can help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered – it seemed important to explain this, "He wanted me to bring Cedric back to his parents... he wouldn't let me take him too!"

"That's all right, Harry... just let go now..."

Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry from the ground and set him on his feet. Harry swayed. His head was pounding. His injured leg could no longer support his weight. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly on him – "What's happened?" "What's wrong with him?" "Fenton's dead!"

"They'll need to go the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly, "He's ill, he's injured— Dumbledore, Fenton's parents, they're here, they're in the stands..."

"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him..."

"No, I would prefer—"

"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory is running... he's coming over... Don't you think you should tell him – before he sees?"

"Harry, stay here—"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically... The scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes... he could see Danny's sister in the stands shaking, with her parents next to her buckled over in grief...

A voice reached Harry through the haze, "It's all right, son, I've got you... come on... hospital wing..."

"Dumbledore said stay..." he warbled through a thick tongue. The pounding of his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever. He wasn't sure if he was wearing his glasses anymore.

"You need to lie down... Come on, now..."

"But Cedric…"

Someone much larger and stronger than him was half pulling, half carrying him through the frightened crowd. Harry heard people gasping, screaming and shouting as the man supporting him pushed a path through them – Harry saw Danny's friends, Sam and Tucker, be shoved aside, their faces pale and drawn, before he was dragged toward to the castle. Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship, Harry heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the man helping him walk.

"What happened, Harry?" the man asked at last as he lifted Harry up the stone steps. _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk_. It was Mad-Eye Moody.

"Cup was a Portkey," Harry gasped as they crossed the entrance hall, "Took me, Cedric and Danny to a graveyard... and Voldemort was there... Lord Voldemort..."

The clunking stopped for a moment before pressing forward, up the marble stairs...

"The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?"

"Killed Danny... they were aiming for Cedric, but..."

"Fenton is dead, is he? What after?"

 _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._ Along another corridor...

"Made a potion... got his body back..."

"The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?"

"And the Death Eaters came... and then we duelled..."

"You duelled with the Dark Lord?"

"Got away... my wand... did something funny... I saw my mum and dad... they came out of his wand… Then it broke... Then Danny came, but it wasn't really Danny..."

"In here, Harry... in here, and sit down... That's right, you'll be all right now... drink this..."

A scrape of a key in a lock reached Harry's ears and he felt a cup being pushed into his hands.

"Drink it, you'll feel better... come on, now. Harry, I need to know exactly what happened..."

Moody helped tip the stuff down Harry's throat; he coughed, a peppery taste burning his throat. Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself... He looked as white as Fudge had, and both eyes were fixed unblinking upon Harry's face.

"Voldemort's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"

"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me," Harry croaked.

His head felt clearer; his scar wasn't hurting so badly; he could now see Moody's face distinctly, even though the office was dark. He could still hear the screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch pitch.

"Blood," Harry said queasily, raising his arm. It was still sluggishly bleeding and his sleeve was ripped from where Wormtail's dagger had torn it.

Moody let out a breath in a long, low hiss.

"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"

"Yeah," Harry moaned, "Loads of them..."

"How did they treat him?" Moody asked quietly, "Did he forgive them?"

Bu Harry had just remembered. He should have told Dumbledore, he should have told him straight away—

"There's a Death Eater in Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here – they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end—!"

Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down.

"I know who the Death Eater is," he said gravely.

"Karkaroff?" Harry spat, "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"

"Karkaroff?" Moody gave an odd laugh, "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them... but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has a way of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then– he didn't put my name in the goblet?"

"No," Moody's lopsided mouth twisted into a dark grin, "No, he didn't. It was I who did that."

ΔOl

 _What an embarrassing mix-up on my part to post the wrong chapter. Right at the climax too – it's sort of like a spoiler except the only one who seems to be upset about it is me._

 _Next chapter is coming right up, and then it's back to the regular old Sundays and Wednesdays… unless I go AWOL again. My bad._


	41. Veritaserum II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-Five:** _ **Veritaserum II**_

"You didn't... it– it can't be you..." Harry cried.

Moody swung around to face Harry, looming over him from his seat by the desk. His magical eye had now left the door which he had been intently studying. It was fixed upon Harry. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever, "Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire while Dumbledore and those other bumbling fools were adding the Casper Magical Seminary, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you to prevent you from winning the tournament? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? I did.

"It hasn't been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess just to get past Fenton, so that my hand would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start – then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your way clear. But I also had to contend with your stupidity. The second task... that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I had to give you another hint—"

"You didn't," Harry said hoarsely, "Cedric gave me the clue—"

"Who told Cedric to open it underwater? I did. I trusted that he would pass the information on to you. Decent people are so easy to manipulate, Potter. I was sure Cedric would want to repay you for telling him about the dragons, and so he did. But even then, Potter, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time... all those hours in the library. Didn't you realise that the book you needed was in your dormitory all along? I planted it there early on, I gave it to the Longbottom boy, don't you remember? _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean._ It would have told you all you need to know about gillyweed. But you did not... you did not... You have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all.

"So what could I do? Feed you information from another innocent source. I thought about using Fenton, he was just as stupid and naïve as Diggory, but I feared you were not close enough to share tactics. Then I remembered; you told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called for the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether Potter would think to use gillyweed. And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you..."

Moody's wand was still pointing directly at Harry's heart. Over his shoulder, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall.

"You were so long in the lake, Potter, I thought you had drowned. But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it. I breathed again. But then I found that the judges were considering giving Diggory and Fenton near full points. Diggory I could handle, but Fenton… he was too far ahead in the scoring for you to ever catch up, no matter how _valiant_ you acted; I had to sabotage him. Since my first attempt with the dragons had not worked as well as I'd hoped…"

Harry gaped, "You were the one who hexed Danny?"

"Yes, but I was unaware at the time in his ability to shape-shift. I felt stuck, but then I overheard Dumbledore talking to Snape about Fenton – it appeared that he had a questionable… _gift,_ you could say – no, not his Animagi form, you stupid boy. Something much stronger than that – so I decided to take the more subtle route. Bagman was already so overthrown in his greed that it was easy to plant the seed of doubt of Fenton's credibility. And it worked.

"You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course," Moody continued, "I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way, send them towards your more experienced competition. I Stunned Fleur Delacour as she passed. I directed all the darkest creatures at Fenton. I put the Imperious Curse on Krum, so that he would finish Diggory and in result leave your path to the cup clear."

Harry stared at Moody. He just couldn't see how this could be… Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror… the one who has caught so many Death Eaters… It made no sense… no sense at all…

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, had become more distinct. Harry could see the outlines of three people over Moody's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Moody wasn't watching them. His magical eye was stuck upon Harry.

"The Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you, Potter, and he so wanted to," Moody leant in close to Harry's face, his remaining eye wild as he stared at him, "Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him – the thing he needed above all to regenerate – and then I killed you for him. I will be honoured beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter… closer than a son…

"He must already respect me greatly. Even without your death he would have been pleased with my offering to him of the great Danny Phantom, even if I did not know it at the time. The Dark Lord will praise me. My name will ring in glory with what I have done for him..."

Moody's normal eye was bulging now as he towered over Harry. The door was barred, and Harry knew he would never reach his own wand in time.

"The Dark Lord and I," said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, leering down at Harry, "Have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers… very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure… the very great pleasure… of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," Harry said – he couldn't stop himself – "You're mad!"

"Mad, am I?" Moody's voice wavered uncontrollably, "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me by his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him – and now – I conquer you!"

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth; Harry plunged his hand into his robes—

"Stupefy!"

There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart—

Moody flew back across the stone office floor. Harry, still staring at the place where Moody's face had been, saw Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall looking back at him out of the Foe-Glass. He looked around and saw the three of them standing in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.

ΔOl

 _Thanks for all the lovely messages that people left me. I know I was being a bit of a pity-date and I appreciate the efforts you all made._

 _So here is the next chapter – finally it is revealed what truly caused Danny to have such a tough time in the competition. Although I bet most of you saw that one coming._

 _Review! I'll be updating again on Sunday! x_


	42. The Parting of Ways I

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-Six:** _ **The Parting of the Ways I**_

"Harry?" Dumbledore pressed a hand on Harry's shoulder, making him glance away from the stupefied form of Barty Crouch Jr, who just moments before had been in the polyjuiced form of Mad-Eye Moody.

It was then he noticed he was shaking. His leg could not support him and he was swaying with the effort to stand. The pain, which he had not noticed at all while listening to the Veratiserum-laced Crouch, now returned in full. Dumbledore moved the hand from Harry's shoulder to his elbow and helped him stand, gripping his arm and ordering Professor McGonagall and Snape to stand guard over the Death Eater, before they headed out into the dark corridor.

"I want you to go to my office first, Harry," Dumbledore explained quietly as they headed up the passageway, "Sirius is waiting for us."

Harry nodded. A sense of complete separation from reality had fogged his mind, but he did not care; he was even glad for it. He didn't want to have to think about anything that had happened since he had first touched the Tetrawizard Cup. He didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across his mind in a macabre collage. Mad-Eye Moody, trapped, starving and weak in the depths of his own trunk. Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling the stump of an arm. Cedric, blood oozing from his head like crimson ink at the bottom of the tombstone. Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron. Danny… dead… Danny, screaming at him to leave him behind with the Death Eaters… With Voldemort…

"Professor," Harry mumbled, "Where are Mr. and Mrs. Fenton?"

"They are with Deputy Headmaster Lancer," said Dumbledore. His voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for the first time, "He was the representative for his school and knew him best."

They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and he and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door.

Dumbledore pushed it open. Sirius was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment he had crossed the room, flinging his arms around Harry.

"Harry, are you all right? I knew it – I knew something like this – what happened?"

His hands shook as he helped Harry into a chair in front of the desk.

"What happened?" he asked more urgently.

Dumbledore began to tell Sirius everything Barty Crouch had said. Harry was only half listening. So tired that every bone in his body was aching, he wanted nothing more than to sit there, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until he fell asleep and didn't have to think or feel anymore.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Harry's knee.

"'Lo, Fawkes," Harry murmured, stroking the phoenix's beautiful scarlet and gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. There was something comforting about his warm weight. Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make Harry relive everything. Green flashed in his memory when Harry shut his eyes, making them reluctantly crack open as Danny's urging voice rattled through his head not for the first time.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly.

"We can leave that 'til morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" Sirius barked sharply. He had put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Let him have some sleep. Let him rest."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude for Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius's words. He leaned forward toward Harry.

Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head and looked into tired, curious blue eyes.

"Harry," Dumbledore simply spoke.

A soft trill echoed from the phoenix. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him. His insides had felt like they had been scooped out with a spoon.

He took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; he saw Cedric's body on the ground beside the cup where he thought he was dead, until he saw Danny's body next to him.

Harry rushed through his retelling of the occurrences that night, thrusting his arm out and showing Dumbledore and Sirius the mangled slice on his arm where Pettigrew's blade had cut him, ignoring his Godfather's vehement exclamations to instead watch Dumbledore mull over Harry's claims of Voldemort's ability to touch him – how he had touched Harry's face. But when Harry reached the part where the gold beams had connected his and Voldemort's wands, he found his throat obstructed. He tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's shattered wand were flooding into his mind. He could see the old man emerge, see Bertha Jorkins… his father… his mother… Danny.

He was glad when Sirius broke the silence.

"The wands connected?" he asked, turning from Harry to Dumbledore, "Why?

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look, "Priori Incantem," he muttered.

His eyes bored into Harry's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply.

"Exactly," nodded Dumbledore, "Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share the same cores. Each of them contain a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet and gold bird, perching peacefully on Harry's knee.

"My wand's feather came from Fawkes?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed, "Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago."

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" Sirius asked nervously.

"They will not work properly against each other. If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle… a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells as it has performed – in reverse. The most recent first… and then those which precede it…"

He looked intently at Harry, who nodded.

"Which means," Dumbledore concluded, his eyes upon Harry's face, "That some form of Danny must have reappeared."

Harry hesitated before nodding.

"Danny came back to life?" asked Sirius sharply.

Dumbledore gave a heavy, regretful sigh, "No spell can reawaken the dead. All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Danny would have emerged from the wand… am I correct, Harry?"

Harry chewed on his tongue before he gave a quick, "No."

"No?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

Harry shook his head, "There was an old man, first. I think he had been dead for a while. I don't think he even knew that magic existed. And then…" Harry felt his throat constrict again, "Bertha Jorkins. And…"

"Your parents?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

Harry nodded.

Sirius's grip on his shoulder became painful, and Harry looked up to see that his guardian's face had turned an ashen grey.

Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of himself, resting his chin on weathered hands, "The last murders the wand performed," he said, solemnly, "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection."

Sirius spoke up, "But what about Danny? Wouldn't he have been the first to come out of Voldemort's wand?"

"He did appear, but he was… different from the others. More solid. And… powerful."

Dumbledore lifted his head, a look of curiosity spreading across his face. Sirius sat down in the chair next to Harry.

"Different, you say? Can you describe him to me?"

Harry told Dumbledore about how Danny's eyes and hair had changed, how he glowed like a beacon and could fire off defensive spells and ice curses without the aid of a wand.

Sirius looked bewildered. Dumbledore's mouth twitched into a near smile, "It is apparent to me now that there is more than one way to avoid the Killing Curse."

Before Harry could ask what he meant, Dumbledore continued, "Very well, Harry, these echoes— these shadows…what did they do?"

Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edge of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how Harry's mother had told him to trust Danny and told him what to do, how Danny had made his final request.

At this point Harry found he could not continue. He looked around at Sirius and saw that he had his face in his hands.

Harry suddenly became aware that Fawkes had left his knee. The phoenix had fluttered to the floor. It was resting its beautiful head against Harry's injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. The pain vanished. The skin mended. His leg was healed.

The phoenix then lifted its head, staring up at the Headmaster, eyes focused and intense, as if they were having their own conversation. Then, Fawkes gave a loud trill and spread his wings, disappearing in a burst of flames.

"Where did he go?" Harry asked.

"I have asked Fawkes to return to the graveyard, where I am hopeful he will find our missing Casper champion."

"But, sir, how would Fawkes even know where to find him?"

Dumbledore got up from behind his desk and headed toward a large enchanted cabinet. With a wave of his wand the doors unlocked and opened. Dumbledore delicately removed a large wooden box from its shelves and returned to his seat, opening the container.

With another flick of his wand an array of strange items flew out of the box, lining up on his desk in front of Harry and Sirius for them to see. The first was a rather familiar book, tattered and thin, the cover was stained with black ink and a large hole resided in the middle of it. It was Tom Riddle's diary. A locket was quick to follow, with a great obsidian stone embedded with the image of a hissing snake. The bejewelled front had a deep slice running through its centre, splitting the snake in half. A golden goblet was next, it looked to have seen better days, the stem was bent and the polish was worn and tarnished until it no longer shined. Finally, a diadem, littered in diamonds appeared from the box, the metal bent and burned, with scorch-marks spread across its surface.

"What's this?" Sirius asked.

"These, Sirius, are fragments of Voldemort's soul."

"His soul?"

"Indeed. Throughout the year I have been sending Mr. Fenton to gather these four items, which Voldemort had transformed into what we call Horcruxes. Currently, Mr. Fenton carries one other. A ring… have you seen it, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, "His hand… I remember it was all shrivelled up and dead-looking… And he mentioned a ring… he said it spoke to him…"

"Ah, a simple mistake that anyone could have made," Dumbledore leaned back in his wing-backed chair, "It is only thanks to Professor Snape that Mr. Fenton survived the curse. As I had no suspicions of Voldemort's doings and did not think to warn him of the dangers of entering Voldemort's childhood home until he had discovered it, and sadly thus he faced the repercussions alone. I should have realised that while Mr. Fenton has… extraordinary talents, he is still just a boy and, for the most part, human."

ΔOl

 _It's beginning to unravel what exactly Danny is and what his purpose of coming to Hogwarts was…_

 _Next chapter will be on Wednesday, so stay tuned and review. x_


	43. The Parting of Ways II

_Disclaimer: I hold no rights over the Harry Potter series or the Danny Phantom series. Any and all direct quotes and texts belong to J. K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes only and not for profit or any additional benefits._

ΔOl

 **Chapter Thirty-Six:** _ **The Parting of the Ways II**_

Something clicked in Sirius' mind as he stared down at the Horcruxes. He took a shaky breath and turned to Harry, "Harry, did you say Danny had white hair? And _flew_?"

Harry nodded affirmatively. Sirius released a soft gurgle from the back of his throat, swivelling to Dumbledore, "You mean, Fenton… and _Phantom_?"

The Headmaster nodded before seemingly becoming distracted by one of the contraptions on his desk as it puffed smoke at him, "Indeed he was, and very well may still be. We will have to wait for Fawkes' return before we discover the truth."

"Phantom? What's he got to do with Danny?" Harry glanced between the two, confused.

Dumbledore said, "Did you ever find it peculiar, Harry, about how Mr. Fenton was able to complete the Tetrawizard Tournament's allotted tasks so easily?"

"That's not true; he got penalised in the second task—!" Harry argued.

"For using means not currently understood by the wizarding world. He did not complete the task by using magic."

Harry shook his head, "That's not possible. He couldn't hold his breath for over an hour. And Hermione said that muggle technology doesn't work with magic, so he couldn't have used that. Too much interference or something."

Dumbledore nodded, "That is correct."

"Harry," Sirius's face was drawn now, "What was it you said happened the night you figured out the clue to the egg?"

"You mean that weird splotch on the map? Er—" Harry glanced over at Dumbledore, who seemed to be enthralled in the little contraption that puffed smoke – "I mean, how Danny suddenly appeared from nowhere?"

"Yes, you said you thought you saw the name Phantom, right?"

"Well, yeah… but it was sort of late and I was really tired…"

"No, Harry, you weren't tired. Now think; what do you know about Fenton?"

Harry shrugged, "I dunno… He never really talked to anyone but his friends much. Not even Fred and George knew where he went most of the time… He asked about you a lot, I guess."

"That's because he was looking for me," Sirius affirmed.

Harry stared at his godfather. Sirius gave a grin as if he'd just solved some sort of great riddle, "Didn't you think it was strange how he seemed to disappear into thin air for days on end, even while on Hogwarts grounds? How he seemed cold to the touch?"

Harry gave a rattling breath, "Danny is Phantom?" he turned to Dumbledore, "And you knew?"

The Headmaster gave an indulging smile, "I had my suspicions. Of course, I had not _true_ substantiation of this, but enough that I decided to invite his school to join in on this year's Tetrawizard Tournament."

"So it was a set-up? You knew the cup would choose Danny's name?"

"Not at all, Harry. It never even passed my mind that he would have entered the Tournament. He's a rather large fan of laying low, you see."

"But what did Sirius have to do with it? Why did the Ministry send Phantom after him?"

"Because he was best for the job; a well-known vigilante on the hunt for an ex-convict? The idea was positively foolproof. Anything that went wrong could easily have been blamed on young Mr. Fenton rather than the Ministry... that's why I placed the idea in the Minister's head in the first place," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously, making Harry gape at him and Sirius looked impressed for the first time that night.

"Alas," Dumbledore continued, "I did not expect Mr. Fenton to be met with such difficult grounds. He has shown great bravery tonight, just like yourself, Harry; equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his power. Do not let Mr. Fenton's sacrifice make you believe otherwise. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it – and you have now given us all we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you to return to your dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion and some peace… Sirius, would you like to stay with him?"

Sirius nodded and stood, transforming into the great black dog as he trotted after Harry and the Headmaster, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing.

When Dumbledore pushed open the door Harry saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron and Hermione surrounding a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. They were demanding to know where Harry was and what had happened to him. All of them whipped around as Harry, Dumbledore and the black dog entered. Mrs. Weasley let out a soft muffled scream.

"Harry! Oh, Harry!"

She started to hurry toward him, but Dumbledore moved between them.

"Molly," he held up a hand, "Please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight and has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," he added, looking at the others in the room, "You may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is certain he is ready, which will not be this evening."

Mrs. Weasley nodded furiously, before whipping to face her children and Hermione, as though they were the ones causing the commotion and barked, "Do you hear? He needs quiet!"

Dumbledore ordered Madame Pomfrey quietly to allow Sirius to stay with no questions asked before turning to Harry.

"Harry – I will wait until you are in bed."

Harry felt and inexpressible sense of gratitude to Dumbledore for asking the others not to question him. It wasn't as though he didn't want them there; but the thought of explaining it all again was more than he could stand.

"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry." Dumbledore continued, "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school and our extended guests."

And then he was gone.

As Madame Pomfrey led Harry to a nearby bed, he caught sight of the real Moody laying in a bed at the far end of the room. His hair was horribly shorn, where Barty Crouch Junior had hacked it off for his polyjuice potion. Being locked away for most of the year in a trunk had left his face gaunt. He was still missing a large chunk of his nose and the socket of his missing eye was concaved.

A few beds down he saw Cedric Diggory, laying peacefully with a thick salve covering half of his face, his chest rising and falling in a deep rhythm of sleep.

"Are they okay?" Harry asked.

"They'll be fine," Madame Pomfrey handed Harry some pyjamas and pulled screens around him, "Mr. Diggory has already woken up once and will be released by tomorrow morning. Professor Moody may take a little longer, but he won't be far behind if I have anything to do about it."

Harry nodded dully as Madame Pomfrey pulled closed the final screen, pulling off his robes and replacing them with pyjamas before getting into bed. A short while later Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, Hermione and the black dog crept around the screen, cautiously lowering themselves into seats beside his bed.

"I'm all right," he told them, "Just tired."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed the bed-covers unnecessarily.

Madame Pomfrey bustled her way into the sectioned room, holding a goblet containing a purple liquid and thrust it at Harry, "You'll need to drink all of this," she said, "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

Harry took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. He instantly felt himself becoming drowsy. Everything around him became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at him through the screens; his body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before he could finish the potion, sleep overtook him and he floated away into the welcoming blackness.

He was pulled from the dark unwillingly just a short while later. He clung to the edge of the abyss desperately, trying to ignore the voices hissing over his head like he was underwater. As sleep quickly escaped him, the whispers became clearer.

"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else has happened, has it?"

Harry opened his eyes blearily. Someone had removed his glasses. He could see the fuzzy outlines of Mrs. Weasley and Bill close by. Mrs. Weasley was on her feet.

"That's Fudge's voice," she whispered, "And McGonagall's, isn't it?" But what are they arguing about?"

Now Harry could hear them too; people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva—!" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall, "When Dumbledore finds out—!"

"Yes, well if Phantom hadn't gone and disappeared from his responsibilities—"

"Don't you _dare_ try and blame someone else for what is and always was _your_ responsibility!"

Harry heard the hospital doors burst open and Fudge, McGonagall and Snape entered. Unnoticed by any of the people around his bed, all of whom were staring at the door as Bill pulled back the screens, Harry sat up and shoved his glasses back on.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.

"He's not here," Mrs. Weasley pulled herself to her less-than-impressive height, "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to—"

But the door opened as Dumbledore swept his way into the ward.

"What has happened?" Dumbledore said sharply, "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you – I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch—"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore," McGonagall shrieked almost manically, "The Minister has made sure of that!"

Snape stepped forward, speaking with an odd sort of trepidation in a low voice, "When the Minister found out that a Death Eater was responsible for tonight's events he insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch—"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" McGonagall fumed, "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot into the castle, but—"

"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, "As Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous—"

But McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.

"The moment that— that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling, "It swooped down on Crouch and— and—"

Harry felt a chill in his stomach as Professor McGonagall struggled to describe what had happened. He did not need her to finish her sentence. He knew what the dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal kiss to Barty Crouch, sucking his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge, "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths—"

"But he cannot give testimony now, Cornelius," Dumbledore stated, "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people – about Lord Voldemort and how he came to restore himself to full strength—"

Fudge paled, "You-Know-Who… returned? Preposterous! Come now, Dumbledore—"

A trill filled the room and Harry watched as a large burst of flame appeared by Mrs. Weasley, making her shriek. The room was silent as Fawkes appeared, seated on the shoulder of a white-haired Danny Fenton, who held in one hand the frostbitten remains of Voldemort's snake. The other held a wand which looked like charcoal hewn onto white bone.

" _Bloody hell!_ " Ron muttered.

"Phantom! Where have you been?" Fudge cried, "You were strictly ordered to-!"

But Danny ignored the Minister, instead raising his wand to Harry, "I'm sorry," his voice trembled, " _Avada Kedavra!_ "

Green filled Harry's vision, and then he was gone.

ΔOl

 _I'm going to get hate mail._

 _Hope you enjoyed it. The next update will be on Sunday. Review! x_


End file.
